


ever since new york

by sunflower_live



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, New York City, No Smut, Oblivious Louis, Pining, Quiet Harry, Shameless Canon References, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, like the slowest, try to catch them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:54:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_live/pseuds/sunflower_live
Summary: Louis works at a coffee shop in NYC and he pines endlessly after the boy who lives above it.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 44
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of my life and my own dumbassery.  
> I don't expect it to be very long, probably around 10-15k. The outline is 12 chapters.

“Oh my God! Niall, look!” Louis jumps down from his twin sized dorm mattress to shove his phone screen in his friend’s face, open to a boy’s profile on Bumble. 

Niall looks back at him quizzically, “He’s cute.” 

Louis clicks on one of the photos to enlarge it, like that will do anything to help Niall recognize who the boy is, “It’s my cute regular! The guy that lives above the coffee shop!” He looks stunning in the picture. He’s standing on a balcony, his tan skin reflecting the setting sun behind him. His hair is falling down in shoulder length chestnut waves, revealing that the photo may be a bit older. The boy Louis’ seen has his hair chopped so it sits just above his ears. His body is adorned in all white linen, making him look even more expensive, like he belongs on the cover of Vogue. The top few buttons on his shirt are unbuttoned to show his swallow tattoos, flying across his chest. 

“Nice,” is all Niall says as he goes back to looking at his own phone. 

Louis wavers for a second about if he should swipe right or not. It would be really uncomfortable if they matched and he had to see him in the morning at work. He bites the bullet and swipes. 

They don’t match.

\--

Bumble boy comes into the small coffee shop, his short curls wet from a recent shower. He has a grey gym bag slung over his shoulder and dark circles under his eyes, evidence that he didn’t get enough sleep the night before. It is quite early, Louis thinks to himself, seeing as it’s only seven fifteen. He doesn’t usually get customers until at least eight, so the boy's appearance throws him off guard. 

“Just a shot of espresso please,” he mutters sleepily as he pulls his wallet from his pocket. 

“That’ll be three fifty,” Louis says, silently kicking himself for not starting a conversation. He’s been promising himself that he would for weeks now, ever since he saw him on the app. Before he had obviously thought he was attractive, but he thought the boy was way older than him, someone that would never want to talk to a college kid. He was surprised to see that he was only twenty-one, actually two years younger than himself. 

Louis had taken some time off after he finished school back home. He stayed to help his mom with the youngest twins, not wanting to leave her when she had so many young kids to take care of. After a couple of years he decided to take some local university classes, but ultimately he decided that he wanted to see the world. What better excuse to move to New York City than to go to study Entertainment Management. He packed his bags, with much reassurance from his mom that she would be able to take care of his younger siblings, and moved across the ocean. He’s a few years older than his friends, but he doesn’t mind. 

The boy inserts his card into the square reader as Louis gets to pulling his shot. He grinds the beans into the portafilter and tamps the mound down. He then puts the scale on the tray and lays a small to go cup on top, zeroing it out for accuracy. He attaches the portafilter to the machine and presses the button to extract the shot. This part is always the most awkward when there’s only him and one other customer in the shop. He has around thirty seconds until it’s done and he’s not one for starting conversations. 

Moving in front of the machine, the boy clears his throat quietly, “So what time do you have to get here in the morning?”

Louis looks up, eyes wide at the sudden interaction, “I -- I have to get here at six but I usually end up here a little earlier than that.”

“Do you take the subway?” he inquires.

“Yeah. I take the six to Union Square from FiDi,” he can tell that he’s starting to overshare from nervousness.

Bumble boy just hums in response.

“It doesn’t take very long but I still have to get up really early. Kind of sucks,” here comes the word vomit, “I get up at like four thirty because I have to take my dog out,” he pauses, “Didn’t get much sleep.” He laughs under his breath.

“That makes two of us,” the boys shining green eyes meet his own as he slides the cup of espresso across the bar, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“See you later,” he gives a short wave as he turns towards the glass door.

Louis' mind is working a hundred miles a minute to try to figure out why this boy finally decided to talk to him. Had he seen him on Bumble too?! He can feel his face reddening with embarrassment at the thought. 

_L: SOS!!!_

_N: What?!?_

_L: Bumble boy just came in!_

_N: Who?_

_L: The boy I showed you a couple weeks ago!!! My cute regular!!_

_N: Oh.._

_N: And??_

_L: I made a fool of myself!! Kill me now please!_

_N: lol_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one is a lot longer..

He’s nervous to go into work today, partly because he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Bumble boy again but mostly because he’ll be meeting a new co-worker. Ezra has been on the schedule for two weeks but their shifts haven’t lined up until now. With only two people working a day, the shop only has a few people employed. Today, Louis is closing, noon to six. Ezra’s shift ends at twelve thirty so they have a little bit of overlap to get to know each other, although it’s really for if there’s a lunch rush or they need something from the Trader Joes down the street. 

Louis gets to the shop right at twelve, the weekend train lining up perfectly with his schedule. “Hey mate! I’m Louis. Nice to finally meet you,” he decides to give him a warning before he steps behind the counter. There’s been a few times when people from other locations have come in to trade him off and just stepped back without a word, embarrassing him when his mouth drops open in the seconds that he thinks it could be a rogue customer. You never know in New York City.

“Hey! I’m Ezra!” the guy responds. He’s wearing dark green plaid trousers and black platform Docs. He’s got a band tee tucked into his waistline. He’s towers over Louis and if it weren’t for his already recognizable bubbly personality, Louis may have been intimidated.

“How’s the morning been?” Louis asks as he leans against the back counter. 

The area behind the bar is small, as is the area in front. There’s a short counter lining the back wall; the sink to the side and the fridge on the end. The bar that separates workers and customers only has enough room for the glass case of pastries, the iPad with the square system, the cold brew, and the espresso machine, going from right to left in that order. 

Standing in front of the fridge, Ezra moans about how slow it’s been, not uncommon for a Sunday morning. 

One of Louis’ favorite things to talk about with co-workers is the customers. Gossiping about them is always a great way to pass time. “So, do you have any favorite regulars yet?” he inquires with a raised brow.

“Oh my God. There’s this one guy that I love! He’s short and kind of chubby and he’s always flirting with me. It’s great!” Ezra lights up, “There have been times where he’s been in here for an hour and it makes it so much more interesting,” he laughs at the thought.

“Cold brew gay?! He comes in with his hot pink thermos?” Louis realizes that this is one of his favorite people too. He’s a little bitter that he doesn’t get flirted with, but he also limits their conversation to basic chit chat and asking about his dogs, who he sees him walking most mornings. 

“Yes!” Ezra throws his hands up in his excitement, “Love that guy!”

“Same,” Louis laughs at his outburst. He can already tell that they’re going to be good friends.

“Oh, and those twins that come in! They’re so cool! They always just get black coffee to stay and sit down to do their work together.”

Louis is surprised that Ezra knows about the girls considering they don’t actually come in that often, “Yes!” he agrees, “Funny thing, they’re actually from my hometown in England! What are the chances!” There had been a day where he was wearing a shirt from a bakery in his town and one of the girls had done an immediate double take. She had asked him if he’d been to Doncaster before. Imagine both their surprises when they found out that they were actually from the same place. Three thousand miles from home and he finds not one, but two people from his city. 

“Do you know iced oat latte girl?” Louis asks him about his very favorite regular. She’s covered in tattoos and has her septum pierced. She’s always wearing the most bizarre, yet so New York, outfits. All flowy pants and colorful long jackets. 

Ezra scrunches his nose, “I don’t think so.. I’ll need to look out for her.”

“She’s great! I always rant about my days with her,” he laughs.

“Have you met the guy that lives upstairs?”

Oh God, Louis thinks to himself. Ezra has brought up Bumble boy. “Yeah. To be honest..” he trails off, unsure if he should spill his feelings, “I’ve got a bit of a crush on him but I can’t get the nerve up to talk to him properly.”

“He’s so nice! You should really talk to him! He’s kind of shy at first but he’s just so sweet,” Ezra sounds ready to play matchmaker, “His name’s Harry. He goes to NYU and wrestles for their team,” he pauses to think, “You’re in school right?” Louis nods his assent, “Just ask him about school!”

“Ahh,” he groans, “I’ll try! I’m just so bad at talking to people.”

The other boy rolls his eyes at him, “No you’re not. You’ll be fine.” 

Between their conversation and the steady flow of customers, it’s twelve-thirty in no time, “Looks like I’ll just be having to get bananas tomorrow,” Louis laughs. He does this to himself all the time. He doesn’t like to have to walk to the store, so since he usually closes and then opens, he’ll make less of the yogurt parfaits in the morning and get more fruits when the next person comes in. He always hates himself for it. 

Ezra takes his apron off and grabs his bag from the rack in the bathroom, “Wait! Here,” he passes him his phone, open to an entry for a new contact, “put your number in!” Louis types his in quickly. “I’ll shoot you a text so you have mine. We should hang out sometime,” Ezra continues.

“For sure. It was great to finally meet you,” Louis says, sincere in his words. Ezra has been the first co-worker he’s truly liked in a while. 

\--

It’s a couple hours later when Bumble boy comes in, or now he can be known as NYU boy. It makes it a little easier to talk about him without sounding like someone that stalks people on dating apps. He does know his name, but a code name is always better, he thinks to himself. 

It’s a crazy rush when he walks through the door. At least ten nurses from the hospital across the street have just come in and all have ordered large lattes, which each take four shots, meaning he can only use the machine to make one at a time. It’s a nightmare. 

NYU boy kindly waits for him to take his order, which Louis does while he’s steaming milk, “What can I get for you?” 

“Just a medium americano please.”

Louis reaches over with one hand and quickly rings him up before his other hand gets burned from the heat of the milk pitcher, “Three-fifty.” The boy inserts his card and Louis swings the iPad around for him to fill out. 

The latte he was making now poured and ready, he slides it across the counter. A little splashes over the rim and he grabs a wet rag to wipe it up, “Sorry about that.” Thankfully, the customer doesn’t seem to mind, understanding the pressure that he’s currently under.

It isn’t until he’s making the next drink that he really makes a fool of himself. When he’s pouring the milk from the carton it splashes everywhere, and then, somehow, he drops the now full pitcher right onto the ground. He doesn’t have time to clean it from under the grated mats, so he just wipes the counter and fills a new pitcher. But then, to make it even better (not), when he goes to tamp the coffee in the portafilter he pushes on it sideways and it also goes everywhere. NYU boy is standing right in front of him so when Louis looks up, he scrunches his face at him as if to say, ‘Kill me, this is a shit show.’

It’s not until everyone’s gone and he’s restocking the lids that sit in the corner of the customer area that he realizes that his mistakes wouldn’t have even been visible from where NYU boy was standing. He just made a weird face at him for what he probably thought was no reason.

_ L: I quit. _

_ E: What?! _

_ L: I just completely made a fool of myself, IN THE MIDDLE OF A RUSH, in front of the guy from upstairs. _

_ E: I’m sure it’s fine lol _

_ L: I can never show my face here again. _

_ E: Suree _

As he’s typing his reply, the girl he always complains to walks in. Perfect timing. He begins making her latte and waves off her payment. He never charges her but she still offers every time. 

“How’s it going today?” she swings her words as she asks.

“Awful! Terrible! You know that cute guy that I’ve been obsessing over?!” she laughs while nodding, “I just made myself look like such an idiot!” He recounts the last hour to her, his mishaps and subsequent embarrassment. 

Ivy laughs along to his obviously over exaggerated story. She picks her iced latte from the bar when he finishes making it, and tells him that it’ll all work out, that he’s a catch and any guy would be lucky to have him. 

  
He wishes that they could hang out outside of her just being his customer, but he doesn’t know if that would be appropriate, much like he doesn’t know if it would be appropriate if he, ever, in a million years, started dating NYU boy.

She leaves, shouting, “See you tomorrow!” and he begins cleaning the shop to get ready to close. For the next two hours he replays in his mind his interaction with the boy over and over again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More introduction to Louis' friends! And dog!

“Lou, just talk to him! He’s really nice and I know you two would get along,” Ezra’s been trying to convince Louis of this for days. They’re ignoring their work responsibilities once again in lue of catching up.

Louis scrunches his face, “I just get nervous and freeze up. I don’t know what to say to him.” He pauses, unsure if he should say this next part, “We didn’t even match on Bumble.”

Ezra’s mouth falls open, “You saw him on Bumble?” he says, shocked.

“Yes! And we didn’t match!” he throws his arms up in defeat.

“Well maybe he didn’t know it was you? Or he didn’t want to make it weird? I don’t know,” he holds his hand out, “Here, show me your profile.”

With a groan, Louis protests, “No, that’s embarrassing.”

“Everyone has dating apps. It’s fine. Hand it over,” he wiggles his fingers. 

He gives in, opening the app and setting it in Ezra’s outstretched hand, “I guess maybe from my first picture he wouldn’t know?” The picture is of him and his dog at the park but he’s leaning down to pet him so only a sliver of his face is showing.

“You idiot! I’m sure he didn’t know!” 

Louis grumbles in reply, “Yeah..”

“So next time he comes in, you need to promise me you’ll actually try to talk to him. Ask him about school or something.”

“But I’ll sound like such a stalker! How would I know he’s in school?” Louis deflates.

“Maybe ask him if he is in school? I don’t know.”

Conceding, Louis replies, “Okay. I’ll try to.”

“You know, he’s studying Accounting and Economics,” Ezra smirks at him as he winks.

Louis throws his head back in a honking laugh, “Money, money!” 

\--

He’s been giving himself pep talks all day trying to amp himself up for when NYU boy comes in. He’s finally walking through the door and all Louis can seem to get out is, “Fancy seeing you here.” He cannot believe he just said that. This is a coffee shop! That he works at! That the other boy comes to every day!

Thankfully, he just laughs quietly at Louis' exclamation and replies, “How’s your day been?”

“Good.” Louis motions to the medium cup as a silent question as to if the boy wants an americano, he gets a nod in response. Starting to make the coffee, he continues, “Dreading having to go to class after this but oh well,” this is it, Louis thinks, he’s finally brought up the topic of school.

“I get that. I have class in a half hour,” he pauses as if to think about what to say next, “Where do you go to school?”

Louis sets his hand on the portafilter handle to try to appear cooler than he feels, the attention making his body feel like it’s on fire, “Pace. How about you?”

“NYU. What year are you?”

Louis internally laughs at how this has suddenly become an interrogation. “Sophomore,” he makes a face, “I think.”

“You think?” the boys lips turn up slowly. 

Louis grabs a cup from on top of the espresso machine and turns around to put water in it from the hot water dispenser, “Yeah. I transferred this year and my credits got kind of messed up.” He turns back around and grabs the shot glass, pouring the espresso into the cup of water.

“So you’re twenty?”

He slides the cup across the counter for the other boy to take, “Twenty-three actually. I took some time off.”

Cup in hand, he turns to put a lid on it. Louis already knows that he likes his coffee black, so it’s no surprise when he doesn’t put any cream or sugar in it. He laughs quietly, turned away from Louis, “You look younger.”

Playfully rolling his eyes, “I get that a lot.”

Leaving his cup on the ledge, he puts his hands up as if to surrender, “Not a bad thing.” His eyes crinkle at the edges in mirth.

“How old are you then?” Louis stands, leaning his elbows on the counter with his face in his hands. 

Picking his coffee up, he moves to stand in front of Louis, “Twenty-one.” Louis obviously knew this from his Bumble profile, but he doesn’t share that detail. Instead he just hums in acknowledgement. “I’ll see you later,” NYU boy moves to leave. After all, he did just come in for coffee. 

“See ya,” Louis says, trying to remain nonchalant. The entire conversation he was trying to stay calm as to not shake and spill the americano everywhere. He’s pretty proud of himself for succeeding. He’s also absolutely elated that the green eyed boy showed some interest in him.

\--

His friends had texted him near the end of his shift to see if he wanted to go out for drinks, and never one to turn down the opportunity to let loose, he promptly sent his approval. 

With limited time before he has to meet them in the lobby of their dorm, he closed right at six and practically ran to catch the four home at Union Square. He almost gave in and stopped for chicken strips from Sticky’s, the smell wafting out onto the street, but he instead promised himself that he’d get something at the bar. Eating fried chicken four times a week isn’t the most healthy habit. 

Once back to his room, he opens his door and is met by his little black terrier, Leo, jumping from his bed to greet him. He toes off his coffee stained vans and leans down to pet the happy boy. “Missed you bud,” he tells him, scratching behind his ears. If it wasn’t for having his little dog with him, he doesn’t know if the move across the water would’ve been as smooth. Sometimes he even thinks that he may not have made any friends if it weren’t for the little guy, considering he’s quite the conversation starter in the dorm elevators. 

With only fifteen minutes until he’s supposed to meet his friends, he quickly scoops food into Leo’s bowl that sits under his bed, and then proceeds to strip himself of his clothes that smell of stale coffee. It’s times like this that he realizes how lucky he is that the school wasn’t able to find him another roommate after his other one, an exchange student from Korea, had left last semester. 

Down to his underwear, he enters his bathroom to quickly splash his face with water, and then wipes it on the blue towel that hangs from the door. Moving back into the main area, he starts searching through his drawers for something to put on. He really needs to do laundry, seeing as his only options are an Iron Maiden tee and black skinny jeans. Not his first choice but they’ll do. He pulls them on and texts the group chat that he’ll be down in a second. 

“Leo, time to go,” he calls to the little guy while he makes his way to the door. Shoes on, he grabs the leash hanging from the wall and leans down to latch it to his dog. 

His friends and him have been going to the bar they frequent for months, and when one day there was a customer with a dog, he asked the bartender if dogs were allowed and if he could bring his next time. As a reply, Andy, who they had grown fairly close to, had just winked and said, “He’s a service dog right?” 

Louis’ reply came after floundering for a second, “He’s just an Emotional Support Animal.” One of his pet peeves is people bringing their dogs into places when they clearly aren’t service dogs so he couldn’t bring himself to lie. 

“Good enough,” Andy had told him, and since that day a couple months ago, Leo has pretty much been the bar mascot. He sits under his chair quietly for hours, until either he needs a drink of water, or someone spots him and then drunkenly talks about how cute he is and how much they wish their dog was good enough to go out with them. Even the bar owner loves him, the man that he had been warned he might need to hide his dog from. That was a nerve-wracking interaction, when the old man had been completely off his ass wasted and spotted Leo hidden under the table. He’d walked up, and very surprisingly, had asked his name, breed, and age, stating how cute he was. All the while, Andy had stared over with wide eyes, and mouthed, “Is it okay?” Louis had just smiled and nodded back. The man had strangely asked if he had gotten him from a puppy mill though, going on to talk about how bad they are. Of course, Louis had not, he had rescued him back in England.

After meeting his friends in the lobby, they walk the couple of blocks to Wall Street and enter the bar. Andy calls out, “Leo!” and the group finds seats at the bar, preferring it to tall tables in the back. They don’t even have to order before Andy is serving them their usual drinks, Louis getting an Angry Orchard (which he gets teased endlessly for, but hey, they’re easy to knock back!), Niall getting a Yuengling, and Zayn getting a Corona. 

“So how’s everyone’s day been?” Andy asks the trio.

“Oh, you know,” Niall starts, “Just been up since four-thirty!” he exclaims, “Nothing new!” He also works at a coffee shop, but unfortunately not the same one as Louis. 

“I just got off work,” Louis groans.

Zayn, decidedly not having time to work while taking seven classes, replies, “I had two tests today, and I really should be starting my paper tonight.” It’s always hard to get him to go out with them but when he does it’s a privilege to witness his drunken antics. He loves to push the other two to take shots of Fireball or tequila. 

Andy laughs. They’re the only people under thirty that ever come into his bar, so their antics always entertain him. He doesn’t have to know that Louis’ actually the only one that’s legally allowed to drink. They’ve seen him I.D. countless other people, but for some reason he’s never asked them, not even the first time they went there all those months ago. One time, Louis had brought a huge group of his other friends to the bar, most of which were only eighteen, and all Andy had done was ask Louis if they were legal. It killed him to say yes but he wasn’t about to rat out his friends. 

But Andy, kind, funny, aspiring actor, Andy, is the reason that they’ve latched on to this shitty Wall Street bar. He treats Leo like he’s his favorite customer, he knows their orders, and he stops adding things to their tab halfway through the night (which never happens in NYC). 

So three ciders and a disgusting tequila shot in, Louis decides that it’s time to start ranting about ‘the love of his life’. “Guys. I think we’re going to get married one day,” he says with conviction.

“Who?” Niall asks while Zayn is giving him a similar questioning look.

“NYU boy!”

They stare blankly back at him. Some friend they are, he thinks to himself, rolling his eyes. “Bumble boy! The absolute GOD that lives above my coffee shop!”

He can see the moment it clicks in Niall’s head, “Ahh. That guy. You talk to him yet?”

“As a matter of fact I have,” Louis slams his empty glass down to punctuate his point.

“Nice. You should ask him out,” Zayn says.

Louis rolls his eyes again and whines, “It’s not that simple!” 

Zayn may be quiet and pensive and always studying, but he has no problem asking people out. He’ll see someone on the subway and just walk up, complement their shoes, and ask for their number. He’s got an easy natural charm that’s very hard to resist. For the first month of school, Louis thought they would be great together, but as they got closer he started to see him as more of a brother. Now he shudders at the thought of ever being anything more.

“Okay well I’m not sure what to tell you man,” Niall adds.

“Just let me recite poetry about this man in peace!” Louis groans and then leans down to pick up Leo, “Look! Leo listens to me!” he hugs him close to his chest.

“You alright there bud?” Andy walks up in the middle of Louis dramatics.

Scrunching his face, he replies, “Just fine.”

Zayn cuts in, “Another shot please.”

“Got it. Coming right up!”

Louis passes Leo off to Niall just so he can lean his head on the counter, “NYU boy is just so perfect!” he grumbles.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter today?! I'm on a roll!

Louis made a mistake last night. He should not have let Zayn order the group three more shots. What kind of psychopath drinks countless ciders, and then takes four shots, and then gets up for work in less than five hours. 

It’s five in the morning and he’s just rolled out of bed. He has no clean clothes since he was supposed to do laundry after he got back from the bar, and he, of course, did not. So he just puts on the cleanest tee shirt and jeans that he can find in his hamper, he half-asses brushing his teeth, and he takes Leo out. The security guard in the lobby greets him but he can barely speak coherently considering he’s still drunk. This is the only time he regrets having a dog. He has to get up a half hour earlier just to feed him and walk him, and if that isn’t bad enough, he’s currently seconds from emptying his stomach onto the sidewalk. 

Thankfully, Leo goes to the bathroom quickly, and he has time to stop on the second floor to get a bottle of Vitamin Water from the vending machine. He breaks it open in the elevator and chugs half of it before he gets to his floor. He has a system for sobering up in times like this, when he wakes up still drunk from the night before. He unleashes Leo and chugs the second half of the bottle while he grabs his bag and requests an Uber. Part of his system is decidedly not taking the subway to get to work. He doesn’t mind paying the twenty bucks if it means he doesn’t have to sit in a disgusting subway car and then walk four blocks. 

When he gets to work he chugs a sixteen ounce cup of water and then another sixteen ounce iced oat latte. Although not completely sober yet, he is feeling stable enough to begin his opening routine. He has forty-five minutes until he needs to unlock the doors - plenty of time. 

It’s just his luck that NYU boy is his first customer. 

He’s got his head on the counter when he walks in, startling Louis back into an upright position. If it were any other day he would try to be a little bubby - he’s usually good at faking being awake in the morning - but no matter how hard he tries to brighten his features, he can’t. He got only a few hours of sleep and he feels like absolute shit. “Morning,” he grunts out.

The boy doesn’t look to be in much better shape, but he chuckles at Louis, “Hey. How’re you today?”

“I feel horrible,” he grimaces, “I went out last night and I’m never drinking again.”

“I get that. I went out too,” he matches Louis' pained expression, “I have wrestling in like an hour and I’m not ready.”

“Ew,” Louis couldn’t imagine having to go do physical activity this early in the morning, let alone after a night of drinking. He gets to work on making the americano that he knows the boy wants. 

“So where’d you go?”

“Just this place near Wall Street that my friends and I always go to,” he replies, “The bartender lets me bring my dog.” Wow, he thinks, could he sound like any more of a loser.

“Wall Street? You should come out to the East Village sometime.”

“I don’t know of any places there,” Louis’ brain is just not working this morning. 

“My friends and I always go to Hair of the Dog. You should go there sometime. It’s really nice. Lots of people our age,” he supplies.

Now, maybe if Louis wasn’t so hungover he would’ve caught the invitation, but instead he just replies, “My friends aren’t twenty-one so we kind of have to go where they won’t be ID’d.” He slides the americano over for the boy.

“How much?” he asks kindly.

“Eh. You’re good,” Louis waves him off. He doesn’t feel like ringing him up. 

NYU boy nods in thanks and throws a five in the tip jar. 

And that was the moment that Louis decided that he’s not going to charge him. Of course, it’s not entirely because he tips well. After all, he gives Ivy free lattes and she doesn’t tip at all (he may be a little disappointed but that’s neither here nor there). He just doesn’t like charging people that genuinely make his day better, people like NYU boy and Ivy.

“I’m sure I’ll see you later,” the boy turns to leave.

“Yeah. See you. Have fun at practice,” Louis laughs lightly. 

\--

He meant it when he said that he would see Louis later. It’s a quarter to noon and the same boy is walking through the doors again. 

“Hello again,” Louis calls out, feeling much better than he had earlier.

The boy laughs, “Hey.”

“Same thing?” he asks, thinking maybe he’ll switch his order up since he already had gross black coffee a few hours ago.

NYU boy points to the largest cup, the sixteen ounce, “How many shots are in this?”

“Uh, four.”

“Wow.”

Louis can’t really tell what he’s getting at, if he wants that size or not, “Yeah. Kind of a lot.”

“I’ll take one,” he smirks.

“Alright then. Americano?”

“Yep,” he pops his ‘p’. 

Louis starts pulling the shots and fills the cup with hot water. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he’s very much judging the boy for having a total of six shots of espresso, with no milk or sugar, before lunchtime. Louis loves the shop's coffee when it’s in an oat latte or a mocha, but black - gross. It’s super bitter and he wouldn’t recommend it to anyone. Must be an acquired taste, he thinks.

Americano done, he gives it to the boy. “Thanks,” he gets in reply.

“No problem,” he starts cleaning up the machine as the boy puts a lid on his cup. He may be feeling better since the morning, but he’s still not in the mood to muster up enough courage to start a conversation in the silent coffee shop. When the boy moves to stand in front of the square system, he waves him off, “No need.” 

“Thanks again,” he drops a couple dollars into the tip jar. “See you tomorrow?” he lifts the phrase into a question.

“Yep. I’m always here,” Louis jokes back.

The younger boy has just stepped out the door and turned towards his own apartment door when Louis pulls his phone out to text his co-worker.

_ L: He came in TWICE today! _

_ E: Ohhh he wants you! _

_ L: HAHA no _

_ E: ASK HIM OUT  _

_ L: Gahhh  _

_ L: I.. still haven’t asked him his name _

_ E: You WHAT _

_   
_ _ E: Seriously!!??!?! _

_ L: ..yes _

_ E: *rolling eyes emoji* _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short one but it might be my favorite interaction/s between characters

True to his word, NYU boy does come in the next day. 

Louis’ halfway through his shift and Brandon, the store's general manager, is delivering lids and cups to his location. On top of the chaos of being handed boxes every couple of minutes, it’s been pretty busy, especially for ten o’clock on a wednesday. He’s had a more than steady stream of customers for at least an hour, putting his multi-tasking skills to the test. When Brandon had asked him during his interview how he works under pressure, it was to ensure that he could handle situations like this. 

He’s just gotten finished making his last drink, a medium matcha latte with almond milk (what a pain to make when it’s busy, and to top it all off, he always ends up with bright green stains on his jeans where his apron ends), when NYU boy comes through the door. His curls look fluffy, like he’s just let them air dry after taking a shower. Louis wouldn’t mind running his fingers through them, he thinks, muss them up a little. He’s got on a black and purple NYU hoodie (fitting), and grey sweats (Louis’ silently thanks Jesus). If this were the first time he had seen him, he would’ve thought that an angel had come in to reward him for keeping calm while being watched by his manager.

“Hello again!” the boy begins as he gently tucks a stray chestnut curl behind his ear.

“Hey. You came just at the right time. Missed the rush,” Louis says, although it’s not ideal that his manager is still loitering. “Americano?”

“Please,” the younger boy steps sideways so he’s in front of the espresso machine, across from where Louis is tamping the grinds down. “So what days do you work here anyways? I never know if I’m going to see you or not,” he looks at his feet to hide a quiet self-conscious laugh. 

Shots pulling, Louis purses his lips, indicating that he has to think, “My schedule just changed so now I work Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday.” It’s awkward talking about his less than ideal schedule while Brandon, who assigned it to him, is standing to his right. He’s only a few feet away, in front of the pastry case. He’s on his phone though, so it’s likely that he’s not paying attention.

The boy hums and cracks a smile, “I’ll have to start coming in more during the weekends then.”

“Guess so,” Louis laughs back, passing the americano over to him. 

After he gets a lid on his steaming hot drink, the boy moves in front of the iPad expectantly. This is it, the moment Louis risks his job for a boy. He can’t find his voice to tell him that he doesn’t need to pay, so he just smiles shyly and waves him off.

“Thanks,” his beautiful green eyes crinkle at the edges. Grabbing onto the strap of his backpack as it hangs from his broad shoulders, the boy leaves, his goodbye consisting only of a guarded smile. 

Louis visibly deflates now that he finally has a second to relax. 

“He was laying it on thick,” Brandon suddenly looks up at him from his phone, as if he was waiting for this moment. 

Louis splutters, his mind reeling for words to say that don’t reveal just how tickled he is at his manager's reaction to his interaction with the boy he’s been pining after since he was hired. “I --” he feigns innocence, “What do you mean?”

Smirking, as if privy to a secret, his boss replies with an eye roll, “He was obviously flirting with you.”

“He -- I --” Louis struggles with an answer, “Really?”

“Yes! Obviously!” he laughs as Louis stares back at him with wide blue eyes. 

Louis may dislike having his manager watch him work, but he is glad that he’s not some stuffy old man and he’s instead a mid-twenties gay hipster from Brooklyn. Praise the Lord for the pretentious third-wave coffee scene in NYC. “I -- Yeah. I mean, he’s cute so..” Louis trails off.

“Hell yes he’s cute. Go get ‘em!” 

Louis can’t help but join in on Brandons laughter, “Uhm. Okay. I’ll try.” 

“Good,” Brandon peeks around the corner into the bathroom, which doubles as the storage closet, and gathers the pastry invoices. “I’ve got to head to 67th but I’ll see you later.” Love Wins tote bag over his shoulder, he walks from behind the counter to the door, “Good luck!”

Louis grabs a rag from the red sanitizer bucket and starts wiping the sticky wooden countertop, “Bye, and thanks.” Being the only person in the shop now, he breaks out into a massive grin and immediately pulls his phone from his apron pocket to text Ezra.

_ L: I’m SCREAMING. Harry (?) came in when Brandon was here and as soon as he left Brandon goes “wow he was laying it on thick” and I was like ?? and he said he was really flirting omg _

_ L: He asked me what days I work *tongue out winky emoji* _

_ E: omggggg _

_ E: I told I _

_ E: U _

_ L: He knows when I work now so I need him to come in every day lol _

_ E: he wants _

_ E: Be like let’s get tatts _

_ L: Yeah just jump right in with non-couple tats _

_ E: Hahahahaha _

Leave it to Ezra to be Louis' own personal hype man, rooting for NYU boy and him to get together. Louis wouldn’t be opposed to the matching tattoos, he thinks. Much like on his own arms, he’s seen that the other boy has a good amount of traditional black and grey work. He has a ship tattoo on his bicep that Louis’ particularly fond of. It stretches wonderfully against his muscles - the very large muscles that hint at his ability to pin someone down (when wrestling of course). 

Maybe his manager's words are the push he needs to talk to the boy for real, not just in the three to five minutes that he’s in the coffee shop. If he wasn’t building a fantasy in his head before, he sure is now. NYU boy works on Wall Street while Louis works at a record label. They have a couple of curly brown-haired babies that they take on weekly walks in Central Park - after having brunch at a trendy cafe of course. Louis drinks an iced latte while the other boy has an americano. He can picture it clearly, their perfect little family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although the entire fic is based off of my life, this chapter is especially biographical. Texts are what was actually said lmao
> 
> Also, doesn't look like I'll get another chapter up tonight. I actually left the house today so I didn't have a lot of time.


	6. Chapter 6

“You doing anything exciting this weekend?” NYU boy speaks up after he’s already been in the shop for a few minutes. It’s still early and out of grogginess, neither of them had even given a verbal greeting upon his arrival. Louis had just begun making him his americano, smiling at him shyly in the little moments that he would catch the other boys eyes. 

Louis jumps at the sudden question, causing him to splash a drop of hot water onto his hand. “Ouch,” he rubs his hand on his apron, like it will do anything to ease the burn, “Yeah, actually,” he laughs lightly, “for once.” He pours the espresso into the water, pausing his words. “My sisters’ flying in to visit,” his eyes sparkle at the thought of finally getting to see her after four months, the longest, by far, that he’s ever gone without seeing anyone in his family. 

Lottie’s been his best friend since she was born seventeen years ago. It’s always been them against the world; when his other sisters were born, when his mum got divorced, when she remarried, when she had the youngest twins. He misses her with his entire heart and he hopes just as much that her visit to the city will convince her to move closer to him when she graduates and goes off to Uni. He hasn’t succeeded in getting her to apply to NYU, or any other school in New York, but one of her top choices is Northeastern, only a few hours away in Boston.

“That’s nice. How old is she?” NYU boy asks.

“Seventeen,” he pauses to think if the other boy will want to hear what he would deem as excessive information, ultimately deciding that he’s got no reason not to keep the conversation going. Anyways, he loves to brag about his sister. “She wants to go visit Northeastern while she’s here.”

“She should apply to NYU,” he points at his purple tee that shows the school logo.

Louis playfully scoffs at the thought of their constant conversations about just that, “I keep trying to get her to but she doesn’t think she wants to be that close to me.” Despite their strong relationship, she doesn’t want to feel like she’s living in his shadow. She wants her college years to be her own. 

“But New York’s.. Quite.. Big.”

Louis can’t help the embarrassing cackle that escapes his mouth at the younger boys’ exclamation. “That it is, curly,” he’s not sure if he’s overstepped by giving him a nickname, but for once, he can’t bring it in himself to care. 

His laugh is met with a fond look. “Do you know when you’ll go to Boston?” he adds nervously.

“I’m thinking we’ll just go Sunday, Monday. I can’t really skip my classes on the other days,” as an afterthought, he adds, “And I don’t want to take a lot of work off.”

NYU boy hums, forgoing a verbal response. He’s now just standing across from Louis at the counter, holding his cup of coffee. This is the longest he’s stayed in the shop. Louis’ stomach flips at the thought. 

Louis continues his rambling, “Any chance you know the best way to actually get to Boston?” He’s pretty sure they’ll take the bus but he wants a reason to keep the beautiful boy from leaving the shop. 

“Sorry,” he shrugs apologetically, causing his backpack strap to slide down off his shoulder, “I’ve never been.” He hitches it back up as he vaguely points to the ceiling, “Is this Lewis Capaldi?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Louis’ caught off guard at his observation. Lewis is his all time favorite artist. “Thoughts on his music?” he asks, trying to remain nonchalant as ‘One’ plays from the small speakers. 

“I’m not afraid to admit,” he laughs, “I love his album.”

Louis smiles shyly at his admission while his fantasy of their relationship continues in his head; dancing jovially and spinning each other in the kitchen while ‘Hollywood’ plays tinnily from his laptop, Louis serenading him dramatically to ‘Lost On You’ (without the need to wish him to be ‘safe in the arms of another’). “Good,” he wrinkles his nose to hide how much the other boy's words mean to him. 

Snapping from his reverie, NYU boy holds his hand up in an attempt at an easy wave, “I’ve got to get to class. I might be a little late,” he smiles at the ground, “I’ll see you later though,” he looks up, green eyes hopeful. 

Louis smiles back and begins to fiddle with the iPad, “Yeah. Have fun,” he says the last part sarcastically.

The boy leaves the shop with a shy smile still gracing his kissable pink lips.

\--

Lottie’s flight got in at JFK forty minutes ago and he’s been stalking her on Snap Map every minute since. She’s currently in an Uber crossing the Manhattan bridge on her way to the shop. Since she’s staying with him in his dorm and he’s currently at work, she has to wait for him to get off so they can go back together. Seeing as his school is in the biggest city in the United States, the security is tight to get into his building. Once there, he’ll have to sign her in so that she can get her special pre-approved guest exception and then they’ll enter through the gate closest to the guard while she shows her printed slip, which although the guard had just seen her receive, he’ll still take it from her hands to read seriously.

The map shows that she’s a few streets away, so when he’s leaning on the counter looking at it, the opening of the door surprises him. He looks up and there she is, hauling her pink suitcase through the narrow door. “Lottie!” he screams as he runs from behind the counter, stretching his arms out to envelop her in a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you!” she laughs at his elation.

He releases his hold to step back and take her presence in, “I missed you too. So much.” 

After motioning for her to sit down at one of the tables that’s built into the wall, he asks her if she’d like anything to drink. She replies, telling him that she’d love a cold brew with a splash of soy milk. He makes it swiftly, still taken by the fact that she’s here, that she’s sitting in the little coffee shop that he’s been telling her about for months. 

“So, where’s this cute guy that I’ve heard so much about?” she says conivingly before taking a long sip of her coffee.

Louis rolls his eyes, scoffing at the topic to hide the fact that he’d like nothing more than to talk about the boy, “I don’t know. Haven’t seen him today.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll get to see him,” she winks.

\--

It’s forty-five minutes until he’s off work when the boy shows his face. 

“Americano?” he’s already begun grinding the beans into the portafilter. 

“Please.”

Louis is hyperfocused on the fact that his sister’s sitting knowingly in the corner, chewing on the straw of her now empty drink in an effort to keep her thoughts to herself. He sends a short glare in her direction and receives a smirk in response. 

It’s then that NYU boy looks over at her as well, noticing that Louis’ focus has been aimed elsewhere. Lottie, caught in his glance, jumps up and bolts out the door, stopping only as she opens the door to hold her phone up as if to tell Louis that she has a call to make. Of course, he knows, she doesn’t. 

“Uh. Was that your sister?” the younger boy furrows his brows as the door closes. 

“Yeah. That’s Lottie,” Louis supplies, sliding the americano across the counter.

Humming, he takes a moment before speaking again, “She looks a lot like you.”

Dazed by the comment, Louis dumbly says while scratching at a piece of tape on the counter, “She’s a lot prettier though.” He can’t believe that he just said that. 

NYU boy tips his head back in a quiet laugh, “Sure.” He backs towards the door, saluting his goodbye, “Have fun in Boston.”

It’s only when the boy has locked himself in his apartment building that Lottie bursts back through the door, laughing boisterously, “Oh my God Lou! That was amazing.” He groans at her outburst. “You guys are both so awkward!” 

“I know! Okay!” he lets out another groan. “Why did you leave me?!” 

She plops onto the stool that she had previously occupied, “I couldn’t hold in my laughter any longer!”

“Ugh! I hate you!” he forcefully unties his apron and pulls it from his waist. His least favorite co-worker walks in two minutes late and he moves his attention to the girl, “I’m going to leave. We don’t need anything from the store.”

Lottie jumps up from her seat and they begin their journey back to his dorm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was actually Cherry playing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's nearly 3k words!

Boston was uneventful. The duo ate at a couple of good restaurants (Louis was excited to try New England clam chowder) and they visited Northeastern. It was freezing cold the whole time, which Louis may have complained about more than absolutely necessary, always receiving an eye roll from Lottie. They stayed at a nice old hotel that Lottie was convinced was haunted, which Louis rolled  _ his _ eyes at. 

The bus ride home took hours longer than expected due to traffic, but when they pulled into the lot on 39th, Louis texted his friends to let them know that he was about a half an hour away, and would be picking Leo up from their shared room as soon as possible. He’d left him with Zayn and Niall, confident that they would take good care of him. He knows that the boys love him like their own dog and spoil him with cuddles and trips to the park. 

It’s already seven when they get to the dorm building, and after six hours sitting on an uncomfortable bus seat, both Louis and Lottie are ready for bed. He knocks on the boys door on the sixteenth floor and when Zayn opens the door, letting Leo run to his feet, he knows that they’ve been planning something. He can smell the Fireball on his breath, and when he opens the door further, Niall waves at him from his desk where he’s taking swigs straight from the bottle. “You guys getting drunk around my little child?” Louis laughs as his sister and him step into the room, “Child abuse! I swear!”

“Oh fuck off Lewis. He’s fine. We’re just pregaming,” Niall cringes at the cinnamon taste in his mouth. 

Lottie, still standing nervously behind her brother, speaks up, “Pregaming for what?”

“We’re going out!” Niall slams the bottle on his desk and throws his arms in the air. 

Zayn, clearly already tipsy, walks up to Lottie and grabs her by her shoulders, holding her an arms length away, “You ready to go to the Rose?”

Louis scoffs and pushes the other boy playful, “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not the ‘Rose’. Nobody calls it that! Stop trying to make it happen.”

Zayn lets his arms fall to his sides and steps to his bed to grab the black hoodie that’s sitting on it. It may be thirty degrees outside but that won’t stop him from only wearing the lightest of outerwear. At least he isn’t wearing shorts, like he normally would, Louis thinks. 

“We’re kind of tired,” Lottie starts but Louis motions with his hand for her to cut it out. He’s usually the one that has to force the other boys to go out, so he’s not looking to let this opportunity go.

“I mean.. I don’t have to work in the morning,” Louis motions for Niall to pass him the half-empty bottle of Fireball. He takes a drink, gagging at the taste that reminds him of every time he’s emptied his stomach after one too many drinks. The burning of it coming back up during a horrific hangover has made it his last choice of alcohol, although for some reason he still decided to take that bottle from Niall. 

“Lou,” Lottie whines.

“It’ll be fun! And anyways, when’s the next time you’ll be able to get into a bar?!” he points out the fact that she’s very much underage. 

“Fine,” she groans at her older brother's antics.

\--

After taking their bags back to his room on the fourteenth floor, the group walked to their favorite hang out spot. Zayn drunkenly sang Iyaz’ ‘Replay’ on replay, ironically, the whole walk. It only took Louis a few minutes and a couple of shoves to join in loudly. It’s a tradition of sorts, singing old songs at the top of their lungs on the streets of New York; hits by Sean Kingston, Iyaz, Jay Sean. 

They walk through the door to be met by Andy pausing while taking a customer's order to wave in hello. With no seats at the bar, the group has no choice but to sit at a large booth near the door. Marisa, an older lady that works there as a server, promptly showed at their sides to take their orders. While Louis, Niall, and Zayn got their regular drinks, Lottie opted for a White Claw, ever the teenage girl. Louis and Lottie also ordered food, having not eaten since before they boarded the bus that morning. 

“See,” Louis smirks at Lottie, and continues with a lowered voice, “Told you they wouldn’t ID you here.”

“Not sure how you guys get away with it,” she laughs back.

It’s moments later that their drinks are brought out. Niall takes it as his chance to ask for tequila shots for the table. 

Louis’ eyes widen at his enthusiasm, “Niall! Jesus Christ mate!” They usually wait until they’re a couple beers in to order harder stuff.

“Hey! This may be Lottie’s only chance to see how we live!”

Louis turns to Lottie, “I assure you, this is not how we ‘live’,” he laughs as he makes finger quotes, “Don’t listen to those idiots.”

Lottie just laughs nervously in response, a tad intimidated by being around three other boys in a bar that none of them fit in at. She wishes for a moment that she had put something less ‘young looking’ on, changed out of her crop top and ripped jeans. 

It’s then that their food is brought to the table, Lottie’s caesar salad and Louis’ mac and cheese. It’s obvious that the food isn’t the best quality, but the mac and cheese is still one of Louis’ favorite things in the city, all gooey and freshly un-frozen. They dig in quietly, observing the other two interacting hilariously with each other. They make crude jokes, weirdly insisting that they hook up with each other in their room on the regular. If Louis didn’t know better, they would have him convinced. 

Food eaten and drinks downed, Louis spots an empty section of the bar and he alerts Marisa that they’ll be moving. She lets them know that she’ll transfer their ticket to Andy, and waves them away. Leo in Louis’ arms, they walk up to the bar and greet Andy. “Hello there mate!” Louis says in his distinctly northern English tongue. 

The four now seated, Louis moves to set Leo down on the floor only for Zayn to reach out from beside him with grabby hands. He passes him over and Zayn snuggles him, “I missed him!”

Louis lets out a loud laugh, head tipped back, “Zayn, you’ve been with him the past forty-eight hours!” 

“Still..” Zayn trails off and buries his face in the dog's black fur.

“Okay.. Well, boys and girl, the usual?” Andy walks over with a smile, having heard the entire exchange.

“Andy, this is Lottie, my sister. She’s just visiting for a while,” Louis starts before continuing with their order, “I think we’ll just take the usual for now.”

“Sounds good. Hi Lottie, nice to meet you,” he holds his hand out for her to shake, “Sorry you have to deal with these boys.” 

Now less nervous, Lottie laughs back as she grabs his hand to shake, “Nice to meet you too,” she pauses, “and actually, could we get shots?”

“Yeah, for sure. What would you like?”

Lottie looks to the others to only be met with shrugs, “Uhm.. Well how about something blue?”

Andy laughs in surprise at her request, but nonetheless, he moves to begin making the shots. 

“Lottie, what..” Louis starts, “Blue? Seriously?!” 

She throws her hands up, “I don’t know!” and then she whispers, “I’ve never ordered shots before!”

The other two laugh along as they catch her words. 

“Okay. Okay,” Louis surrenders.

Andy is back a moment later with a shaker and four glasses. He begins pouring a bright blue liquid into each of the glasses, “Let me know what you guys think!” Lottie lets out a little squeal and they each take a glass, clinking them together in cheers before they down the contents.

“That was really good!” Lottie exclaims, making sure Andy can hear her as well. “Tasted like fruit punch.”

Louis is pleasantly surprised that the bartender was able to make a shot that didn’t taste like straight alcohol, “We should be drinking that instead of tequila,” his eyes crinkle with a hint of humor. 

Andy then slides cardboard coasters in front of each of them before then setting their usual drinks down, “Lottie, what would you like?” 

She thinks for a second before responding, “Can I get a moscow mule?” 

“Sure.”

“Lottie,” Niall cackles, “This is an Irish pub.”

She shrugs dumbly in response, “So?”

Niall continues his laughter, “Nevermind.” 

\--

Many more ‘usuals’ and another ‘surprise me’ shot down, the group has begun to loudly, and very drunkenly, recount their weeks to each other. It’s after Niall has complained about how rude some of his customers were, and Zayn has talked about how he finally finished one of his essays, that Louis brings up his favorite subject, and some subsequent stalking he partook in on the bus ride, “So.. I may have found my cute regular on Instagram.”

“Louis! You’re such a stalker,” Lottie cries out, not having known this piece of information despite the fact that they were sat next to each other the entire time.

He buries his face in his hands and groans, “I know!”

Niall smirks at him as he leans over to put his own face next to Louis, forcing him to meet his eyes, “Well, let’s see it then.”

Although his aim had been to do just that, Louis protests weakly, groaning about how it’s so creepy of him. Niall grabs his phone from the table and holds it out for him to unlock. “Fine,” he puts his passcode in and opens the app, “Here.”

Niall takes it back from him and hovers his finger over the search bar, “What’s his name?”

“Harry,” Louis murmurs, head back on the counter. He hopes that Andy doesn’t think that he’s some drunken idiot who can’t keep from leaning on the bar. 

“Last name?” Niall says before realizing that he didn’t even need to type in his first name to begin with. His account is the last viewed. He clicks on it and pulls up the most recent photo. It’s of the entire wrestling team, at least twenty men, shirtless and sweaty. “Which one is he?” Niall turns the phone so that Louis can point him out.

He rolls his eyes and points to one of the men, although his face is barely visible from how far the photo is taken from. His curls are held back by a purple bandana, his muscles rippling, and his shorts so short that they show off the tiger tattoo on his thigh. He looks exhausted from what must have been a tough match, but he’s still absolutely stunning.

“Nice,” is all Niall says.

“Here,” Louis grabs the phone from him and scrolls to another photo of him. In this one he’s on a boat with a couple of his friends, once again they all have their shirts off. Harry is suntanned and glowing. His eyes are covered by sun glasses but his dimples are deep as he smiles at the camera. He’s in the middle of his friends and they all have their arms swung over each other's shoulders. Louis drunkenly thinks that he wouldn’t mind licking at the butterfly tattoo that’s centered on his toned stomach. He’d maybe even like to lick at the laurels that frame his hips, that point to another area that Louis wouldn’t be opposed to seeing more of.

“Hmm.. What a guy,” Niall hums.

“He’s fucking hot,” Zayn chimes in, looking over the other boys shoulder to get a better view. 

“Right!?” Louis takes a long sip of his cool cider. 

“You should follow him,” Lottie suggests after joining Louis in gawking at his photo.

A little cider dribbles from Louis lips at her words, “No way! He’s never even told me his name!”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I forgot you’re a little bitch,” Lottie says, completely out of character, as she rolls her eyes. The shots must be getting to her.

This time, he full on chokes at her words, “Lottie!” 

Niall, his best friend who should support him no matter what, has the audacity to hold his hand up to high five his younger sister, “Atta girl,” he turns to Louis, “I think I like her better. It’s official, we’re replacing you.”

“Niall! What the fuck!” 

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over my new best friend,” he turns to begin ‘talking’ with Lottie, which only consists of them laughing at his words. 

Louis frowns at their antics and turns to Zayn after picking his phone from the counter, “At least I still have you.”

“Yep. I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s then that Louis sees that Harry has posted an Insta story, “Wait. Zayn, love of my life, lime to my tequila,” he smiles sweetly, “Can you view this from your account?” He points out the outline of Harry’s profile picture. 

Zayn, Louis knight in shining armor, pulls out his own phone and searches the boy's name. Showing it to the other boy, he asks, “This right?” Louis nods. “Here,” he presses the picture and waits for the story to pop up before passing it to his friend. 

Eager to see what it is, Louis holds the phone tightly. “Oh,” he lets the picture fade back into his profile, “It’s just a picture of a wrestling mat.” He’s disappointed that he didn’t get to see the gorgeous boy’s face. 

\--

It’s been a few days since he discovered the other boys Instagram, and he hasn’t seen anything new posted since. Every time he has a story, he texts Zayn and has him look at it, but it’s always something wrestling related and never a picture of the boy. 

Lottie left for the airports that morning, and now Louis’ at work, praying that the boy comes in. As his luck would have it, he comes in near the beginning of his closing shift. He’s unusually dressed up, wearing a long black wool coat and a pair of tan slacks and black leather shoes. His hair is effortlessly swept to the side, chestnut curls shining under the light he stands below. Louis immediately takes this as a chance to start a conversation, “Going somewhere?”

Harry furrows his brow, as if confused about why Louis would ask such a thing. He looks down at his shoes and clears his expression, looking back up to meet Louis blue eyes, “Yeah. I’m meeting my sister for a late lunch.” He allows his dimples to show as he smiles shyly, “She wants to go to some fancy place in the Upper West Side.” 

“Fancy fancy,” Louis jokes as he begins to make the boy his americano.

His words cause the other boy’s smile to widen, taking up his entire face. He bites his cute little front teeth into his bottom lip to hide his enjoyment at Louis’ teasing. “Speaking of sisters,” he begins cautiously, “How was Boston?”

Louis quickly looks down at the espresso, not wanting to be caught staring too long, “Lottie liked it. I would never live there though,” he confesses.

“How come?”

Louis grabs the full shot glass to pour it in the cup, “It was so cold,” he turns to fill the cup with water, completely out of order, “And it was really boring,” he grimaces.

“Boring?” NYU boy says teasingly.

“It’s different. I don’t know.. I like New York,” he hesitates, “It is ‘quite big’ after all.” His eyes crinkle at his cleverness, at what he’s alluded to. 

The other boy stares blankly for a second, not understanding his glee. Then it clicks, “Hey,” he drags out, “It is!”

“Whatever you say curly,” Louis looks at him fondly, only to be met with the same look, the same crinkled eyes and upturned lips. He glances down to the americano to avoid the obvious tension, sliding it across the counter.

NYU boy grabs it, face still fond. “Thanks,” he whispers. 

Louis wipes stray coffee from beside the grinder as the younger boy puts a lid on his cup, awkwardly doing his best to ignore his gaze. It’s when the other boy reaches for the door wordlessly when Louis looks up again, breaking the silence, “Have fun with your sister.” He’s met with another dimpled smile as the boy nods his head, opening the door and stepping out into the frigid air. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the story strays from my own life. Thanks to Covid I never got my ending!

“Repeat after me,” Ezra starts, standing directly in front of Louis, making intense eye contact and clapping his hands in front of his chest, “I, Louis Tomlinson.”

“Ezra,” Louis whines, moving to stand in front of the pastry case to divert his gaze.

“I, Louis Tomlinson,” he says forcefully as he moves beside him.

Louis groans at his persistence, “Fine.” He pivots his body to face Ezra once again, “I, Louis Tomlinson.” He raises his eyebrows and waves his hand around to motion for him to continue.

“Promise to ask Harry his name today,” he finishes with a shit eating grin.

Blue eyes widening, Louis chokes on his own spit, “I don’t --”

Ezra cuts him off, “Say it,” he demands.

“Fine,” he grunts, “I, Louis Tomlinson, promise to ask Harry his name today.” In his head, he instead says he will promise to  _ try _ to ask him his name. He’s been his regular for over six months and, Louis thinks, he’s past the point of being able to casually ask for his name. That’s something you do the first day, or maybe week, not half a year later. Harry has been coming in, without fail, every day -sometimes twice- since Louis had shared his schedule with him. At this point, he also knows Harry’s wrestling schedule and his class schedule (which consists of economics and accounting courses). He has wrestling in the morning, around nine, and then class at twelve-thirty, and then wrestling again later in the day. 

Ezra pats him on the shoulder and leaves him at that, announcing that he’s going out to lunch with his cousin so he has to hurry off. 

\--

It’s before Harry’s (no use in calling him ‘NYU boy’ anymore, seeing as he’s planning on asking him his name very soon) second practice that he comes in that day, around four in the afternoon.

“Hey,” Louis greets him casually, thankful that the shop is empty so he’s able to talk with him without the eyes of other customers watching him. 

“Hi,” is all he gets in response, although Harry’s eyes crinkle, hinting that he’s hiding away a smile. His dimples are seconds from making an appearance. Louis desperately wants to push the other boy over the edge so as to reveal his favorite feature of his.

This is it, Louis thinks, he’s going to instigate a real conversation. “How was class today?” That’s it? That’s all he has in him to ask? 

He’s making his americano and, as now has become a usual occurrence when around the beautiful boy, he spills boiling hot water on himself, mumbling a quiet, “Fuck” under his breath. 

Harry grimaces at his pain, leaning over the counter to get a look for himself, “You okay?” He draws his brows together with the question, adorably concerned. 

Louis laughs him off, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, which he shouldn’t be, considering he’s been craving it. He’s all for it until it actually comes down to the interaction, when Harry’s unwavering gaze locks on him. He turns around and steps over to the sink, turning on the tap to run cold water over his hand for only a second, not doing much to ease the burn but allowing him the time to collect himself. When he turns back around, wiping his hand on his coffee and matcha stained apron, he’s met again by Harry’s piercing emerald eyes. “Sorry,” he apologizes for his brief leave. 

“Better?” The worry still shows in the way that the other boy has his body flush with the counter, itching to lean all the way over to get a better look, to ensure that Louis is fully okay.

Stunned by Harry’s continued regard, Louis reaches out his burned hand to show him that it’s subsiding, only to pull it back to his side quickly, sure that laying his hand in his would be completely overstepping their barista/customer relationship. The counter that sits between them ever a reminder to Louis that Harry may never be more than that to him, a customer, the boy who lives above the coffee shop. 

Harry makes a throaty noise, protesting the withdrawal, and reaches out for him, “Please?” He doesn’t seem to read into the existence of the divider in the same way, not caring about their ‘professional’ relationship. 

Louis weakly brings his hand back up, setting it in the younger boy's outstretched palm. He shyly keeps his eyes locked on his own hand, not wanting to give in to the intimacy of the moment. “It’s fine. Barely hurts anymore,” he finally looks up to Harry’s face, being afforded the opportunity to scan his eyes over his features while he’s momentarily distracted. The other boy’s brows are pulled together and his lips downturned at the corners, as they have been since the second Louis spilled water on his hand. New to the moment, his front teeth bite loosely into his fleshy lower lip, sliding to let it go with every tension filled moment that passes.

“You sure?” he looks up from Louis’ hand, catching the zoned-out look that graces Louis own face, eyes glassy from not blinking, not wanting to miss any of Harry’s microexpressions.

Louis begins to slide his hand back, “Uh. Yeah. It feels loads better.” He leaves Harry breathlessly, going back to making his americano. He fills a new cup with water and dumps the espresso into it, hastily sliding the finished drink over to the other boy who still stands frozen in his spot. 

“Thanks,” he snaps back to reality, back from dazedly watching Louis make his coffee. 

“Of course,” Louis mutters, the boy already covering his drink and stepping over to the door. Louis feels as if he’s moving through water, languidly. He also feels like he’s observing the interactions from an outside perspective. Like he’s watching from above the water, watching his awkwardness. “Wait,” he suddenly finds his voice, louder than ever, probably just a touch too loud for the peacefulness of the shop. “Wait,” he says softer. 

Harry turns around, disoriented, “Yeah?” If Louis didn’t know any better, he’d think that he could hear a hint of hopefulness in the other boy’s voice. 

“What’s --” 

He’s cut off by another boy, around his age, walking into the shop and suddenly grabbing Harry by the shoulders with one arm and putting him in a light headlock with the other. “Hey man. Saw you in here and thought I’d come in so we could walk to practice together.” 

Harry groans at his words, shaking his head in an effort to be released from his hold, “Liam,” he whines but concedes, “Fine.”

The new boy releases him and grabs for the door, opening it for the two of them to pass through. 

“Bye,” Louis calls out over their raucousness.

“Bye Louis!” Harry laughs as Liam tugs on one of his curls. 

Louis smiles fondly at the sight of Harry being pushed around, not realizing until they’re long gone that the other boy had addressed him by name.

\--

“Ivy. Oh my God!” Louis exclaims loudly as the girl walks through the door. He’d watched her from out the window as she’d crossed the street, ready to bombard her with his recount of this earlier interaction. “Guess who came in today!” his smile takes up his whole face.

She laughs along, entertaining his excitement, “Who?” and then with a knowing wink, “NYU boy?”

“Yes!” he says while, maybe too aggressively, setting her iced oat latte in front of her. He’d started making it as soon as he’d seen her across the street, thinking that if she didn’t end up coming in he’d just drink it himself. 

“And?” she implores, “Doesn’t he come in like every day?”

“Yes!” he swings his arms around, flustered, “But today,” he lets his fondness bleed through in his words, “He was all concerned about how I burned my hand.”

“Cute,” she chuckles airily.

“And,” he demands her attention, “He said my name!”

“Wait --”

“He said my name!” he slams his hands on the counter, “I’ve never even told him my name before!”

“What?!” she entertains his antics, “How would he know it then?”

“I have no idea!” He begins pacing behind the counter, passion growing with her interest. 

“Well,” she pauses and takes a sip of her latte, creating room to then put a lid on it, “I’m not sure if that makes things more complicated or less, but I’m here for it.” She shrugs and backs towards the door, “Gotta go though. See you later,” she phrases it as a question.

“Uh. Okay. Yeah. See you.” Louis wishes Ivy had more time to stay and talk, although he’s not sure what more there is to talk about, besides his own inability to grow a pair of balls and ask the boy out. 

“Good luck!” she raises her voice as the door closes behind her. 

He decides to text Ezra, wanting to share this new revelation with his favorite co-worker.

_ L: He said my name! _

_ E: Harry??  _

He texts again without allowing Louis time to respond.

_ E: Well that would make sense, right? Considering you told it to him. _

_ L: I what? _

_ E: You asked him his name, you told him your name.. _

_ L: But I didn’t……. _

_ E: LOUIS  _

_ L: I couldn’t do it _

_ E: *rolling eyes emoji*  _

_ L: But he KNOWS MY NAME _

_ E: Hmmmm  _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Rose for the inspiration for this chapter!

It’s a Friday night and Louis’ in the hollow stairwell of his dorm building, Leo in tow, on his way to Niall and Zayn’s room. He’s got a bottle of cheap white wine under his arm and a bag of Thai food in his hand as he takes the grey painted metal steps two at a time. Much like most nights, he hadn’t planned on drinking, or even hanging out with his friends, but boredom had struck and he’d texted the group chat asking what the two boys were doing. Zayn had vehemently insisted that he needed to get homework done, but Louis’ charm, and offer to buy him wonton soup, convinced him to give it a rest just for a few hours. As Louis says, even if Zayn hadn’t given in to his pestering, he’d have gone a knockin’ - one of the many perks of living two floors below his best friend.

Pushing the stairwell door open with his shoulder, Louis shoos Leo through in front of himself and follows him to his friends door, which Leo has memorized by now. It’s at the far end of the hall tucked into the corner. Much to Nialls displeasure, it’s adorned with Fairly Odd Parents name tags. Niall’s Mr. Crocker and Zayn’s Chester, as decided by their RA (who thankfully does not live on their floor). 

Catching up with Leo, Louis holds his fist up to the door to begin bangng, only for him to notice that it’s already unlatched. He rolls his eyes as he pushes it open, both because of his little dog wiggling it’s way inside, and because of the fact that the other boys are perpetually oblivious to the fact that their door is never fully shut. 

“Hello,” he sing-songs as he steps in the dark room, the boys only having a single lamp on. Zayn has his nose buried in his laptop, illuminating his face, while Niall is sitting and watching Tik Toks on his unmade bed, wild berry Truly perched between his legs. “I see you’ve started without me,” he throws the wine beside Niall, finally getting both of the boys to look up from their devices.

“Oh. Hey. Didn’t see you come in,” Niall mutters as he locks his phone and sets it on his pillow. He quickly chugs the last of his drink and picks up the bottle of wine, cracking the twist off top and bringing it to his mouth for a sip.

“Really?” Louis scoffs. “You didn’t even see Leo come in? He literally went straight to you to try to get up on the bed,” he glares playfully at his friend.

Niall just shrugs in response, going in for another drink.

“So,” Louis starts, plopping himself down on Niall’s cheap blue polyester rug, “Eat while it’s hot.” He sits cross legged and begins to open the take out bag, the smell filling the room as he pulls out his own tofu pad see ew. 

“One sec..” Zayn trails off, typing furiously and then slamming his laptop shut with a huff. 

“I’ve got you your soup!” Louis holds it up in the air, above his head like a trophy. 

“And for me?” Niall implores as he slides off his bed, wine bottle in hand. He drops to the floor beside Louis and makes grabby hands for the chicken pad thai that Louis knew to order him. “Mmm,” he hums after Louis hands it to him, happy to have some food after only having eaten a croissant from work that morning.

Zayn joins them on the rug after getting himself a Truly from the minifridge. He picks the clear container of soup up from in front of Louis and opens it, proceeding to slurp it, no need for a spoon. “Thanks,” he says as a drop leaves his mouth. He wipes it from his chin with a nearby napkin and then takes a sip of his drink.

They eat without making conversation for a while, the sound of Leo puttering around the wood floors filling the silence. Zayn finishes his Truly and starts drinking from the bottle of wine. He then passes it to Louis, who takes a large few chugs in an attempt to catch up with the other boys. “I was thinking,” Zayn starts, “Would you guys want to go to Central Park?”

“Now?” Louis asks incredulously, setting his now empty container of take-out back in the bag.

Zayn turns to him with an equally bewildered look, “Yes?” 

“Mate, I have work in like five hours.” Louis’ being a tad dramatic, over exaggerating, but it’s already eleven and he has to be up at four-thirty. 

“Well I’m down,” Niall chimes in, “I don’t work tomorrow.” 

Louis looks back and forth between the two boys, a tad upset that they’re offering up this adventure when he’s on a time restriction. “Central Park is like thirty minutes away!” he bites his cheek in thought, “What about Washington Square Park instead?”

“Guess so,” Zayn responds carelessly.

“Sure,” Niall adds.

\--

So that was that and fifteen minutes later, Leo in Louis’ arms, they were running to the platform at Fulton station to catch the A train. Luckily, they made it just as the doors were opening. If they hadn’t they would’ve needed to wait another twenty minutes since the late night service was cut down, and Louis would’ve been stuck out even later than he would’ve wanted. 

\--

Keeping up with traditions, and the three being pleasantly drunk after chugging the rest of the wine, the boys sang 2000s hits loudly for the two blocks it took for them to get to the park. Niall skipped ahead at one point with Leo’s leash in his hand. The poor dog had to run as fast as his little legs could take him in order to keep up. 

They entered the park at the corner of Waverly Place, much to Zayn’s excitement (he sang the Wizard of Waverly Place theme song at the top of his lungs when he saw the street sign). The park was nearly empty, a stark contrast to the few times Louis had gone before during the day. Usually the empty fountain would be filled with kids skateboarding, the lip of it covered in people sitting and talking with friends. The only people near them were a couple that was trying, and failing, to take a selfie in front of the arch. Louis laughs quietly to himself at the thought of how their picture probably turned out, all double chins and glowing eyes, just a sliver of the arch visible behind their heads. 

“Uh.. Now that we’re here what are we going to do?” Niall asks after taking a photo of his own, posting it to his Snap story to show that he has such an ‘exciting NYC life’, his words. 

Louis just shrugs in response and turns to Zayn, expecting him to have a plan for the trio. “Well I think there are some bars around here?” 

“Zayn. I have a dog!” Louis juts his arm out towards Leo, where he’s standing on the concrete of the fountain and sniffing around. 

“You could try to get him in?” Zayn offers.

That’s where Louis draws the line. He’s not sneaking his dog into a college bar. There would be no Andy to validate his offence against the law. Not to mention he’s already going to be getting very little sleep, if he went out to a bar he’d literally get no sleep. “No. Sorry. I’ve already stayed up longer than I’d wanted to anyways.”

Zayn winces as he says what he knows will be shot down, “You could just go home. Niall and I could go out?”

Louis, as very much expected, glares daggers in his direction. Zayn may not be able to see his piercing blue eyes in the darkness, but he can feel the coldness that he’s sending his way. “Absolutely not.”

Niall choses that moment to speak up, aiming to keep the peace between his two best friends, “I’m kind of hungry.” When is the boy not hungry, Louis thinks fondly. “We could get some pizza or something?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay.”

And that’s how they end up weaving in and out of drunken kids on McDougal Street. Louis now has Leo’s leash back in his own hand as he watches him to make sure that nobody carelessly steps on his little body. 

It’s when he finally makes it to the end of the crowd that he looks up from his dog. 

He’s met with a strikingly familiar pair of green eyes. 

“Uh,” he freezes, a step away from bumping into the other boy's body.

“Hi,” Harry clumsily holds his hand up in a wave, only realizing that they’re too close for him to do so comfortably after he’s already brushed his hand against the shorter boy's chest. “Oops.”

“I -- Hi,” Louis stammers out, both of them still unmoving.

Harry shakes his head, visibly clearing his thoughts, “What are you doing here?” 

Louis takes a step back, bumping into Zayn this time. The other two boys are just standing behind him, watching the interaction unfold. “What am I --” Louis furrows his brows, “I’m just --” he can’t find the words he’s looking for. Harry’s eyes are shining, seemingly enjoying Louis’ drunken stupidity. “I’m just walking my dog?” he poses his answer as a question.

Harry dimples back at him and asks teasingly, “Are you?” 

“I -- Yes?” Louis looks back at Zayn and then to Harry again. “Yes,” he says with a bit more conviction.

Harry’s smile widens even more, “You’re walking your dog,” he pauses, “At midnight,” another pause, “On McDougal.” His eyes crinkle at the edges. 

“Uh.. Yeah,” Louis’ voice cracks embarrassingly.

“Don’t you live Downtown?” Harry inquiries cleverly.

Thank his soul, Zayn cuts in for him, “We were just getting out for a bit. Exploring the city. You know,” he waves his hand as if the answer was obvious. 

“Hey Harry!” the same boy from in the shop the other day pops up from behind the younger boy. Harry turns to him but doesn’t say anything, leading the boy to continue. “Bouncer said we’re good to go in. C’mon,” he latches onto his broad shoulder. 

“Oh. Uh.. Okay,” he stammers out, looking with wide eyes at Louis as if asking for verification. 

Louis smiles half-heartedly back at him, “Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uhm --” Harry looks back at his friend again. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” And then he’s disappearing through the door that they had been stopped in front of, into the dark light and loud music.

\--

He gets a half hour of sleep that night, too caught up repeating his chance encounter in his head; the way that Harry’s curls swept over his forehead and hid his tiny ears, the way his green eyes shone impossibly brighter in the streetlight, the way his chest looked in his tight black cotton tee. The way he himself had looked like a drowned rat and had choked up as soon as their eyes had met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be quite a bit longer than 15k.. Maybe closer to 20k? Idk.. I think there should be two or three more chapters.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress!

Louis startles awake the next morning to his marimba alarm, set much too loud for his liking. He’s groggy the whole way to work, dragging his feet and forcing himself to keep his heavy eyelids from slipping shut. It’s after he’s already downed two iced lattes that the night before fully comes back to him. It no longer feels like a strange dream. Overwhelmed with the memory, Louis unlocks his phone and opens Instagram to begin some light stalking of the younger boy.

New to the account is a photo Harry posted an hour ago of his friends and him in the park last night. The photo is of Harry, Liam, and a girl with strikingly similar features to the green eyed boys. He assumes the platinum blonde girl is his sister that he’d gone to lunch with the other week. They’ve had the photo taken by a fourth person, electing to not make the same mistake as the couple that Louis had seen last night. They’re perfectly framed by the arch, flash illuminating their goofy smiles. Out of place is the caption, which reads, “There’s no such blue.” Louis cannot fathom what the phrase means, considering there isn’t a single hint of blue in the photo. 

He stands on the fine line between wanting to talk to the other boy today about the awkward encounter the night before, or not mentioning it at all, saving himself from the way his face will inevitably heat up and embarrass him further, especially seeing as he’s just been looking at his Instagram. 

He doesn’t make up his mind until the boy is two steps in the door, sleep soft with his matching black sweats and hoodie, a pink beanie sitting atop his head. Focusing on the way his curls flip out from under the hat, he nearly misses the hint of a black eye that he’s shown up with, that Louis cannot see in the boys Instagram photo. “Get in a fight last night?” Louis asks, lips quirked amusedly, figuring that something may have happened after they had taken the picture. 

Harry’s brows furrow at the question and he stares at the other boy, confusion evident, for a few seconds before coming to his senses. “Oh,” he pulls his beanie off and runs a hand through his hair nervously, “I -- No. It’s from wrestling.” 

Louis has his drink made in record time, allowing him to focus on Harry without distraction. “Ouch. That sucks,” is all he can come up with as a response to the other boy’s injury. 

Harry just sips his too-hot americano carefully, eyes still locked on Louis’ own. He hisses at the heat of it, the way it likely burned his tongue. “Surprised you opened today,” he sets his drink on the counter in front of Louis, “what with how late you were out.” Harry smirks at Louis knowingly.

“You know me,” he pauses in an effort to force his heart rate to decrease, “Not the most responsible,” he shrugs while blowing air from his nose in an attempt at a light laugh.

Harry holds his arms up in defense, smirk growing, “That makes two of us then.” 

Louis lets the topic go, instead steering their conversation towards the very safe topic of school, “So how are your classes going? Finals right now?” 

“Fine, I guess. I’m so ready to graduate,” he fiddles with the string on his hoodie, swinging it back and forth in front of his chest, “I have my economics final later today.” He scrunches his nose, showing his displeasure towards the event. 

Louis makes a similar face at his exclamation, sharing the thought seeing as this week is also finals for his classes. “I get it. I have a philosophy final after work,” he looks down, brushing a pile of grinds off the counter and onto the already dirty floor. “Shit.” Harry looks at him quizzically at his out of place profanity. “I was supposed to study last night.”

Harry honks a laugh at Louis’ realization, out of place given the circumstance. He claps a hand over his mouth and schools his features, opting to quote Louis' previous words with a still teasing tone, “Not the must responsible,” he finishes it with a tisk. 

Louis rolls his eyes good-naturedly, chirping back, “Like you said, goes both ways mate.” He leans against the counter, elbows against the wood and hands holding his smiling cheeks. He’s less than a foot from Harry’s own face, looking up at him through his lashes. “Bet you could’ve studied too, you know, instead of going out and getting in a bar fight,” his smile widens impossibly as Harry’s mouth drops open. 

“Blasphemy,” Harry cries out, throwing his arm across his chest in feigned shock. The softness of his eyes reveals his true thoughts, his tenderness towards the other boy. 

“Well Curly,” Louis lets the nickname, which has now become a term of endearment, slip from his upturned lips, “When you fail your final don’t come running to me.”

Harry takes a step forward, bumping his toes against the solid wood, bringing their faces even closer together so that they’re breathing the same coffee scented air. “Oh don’t worry,” one corner of his lip turns up, “I won't.” He backs away at that, releasing Louis from the hold he had kept him in, the unwavering eye contact and palpable tension. 

Louis blinks at his movement, straightening himself to no longer rely on the bar for his support. “Well,” he stretches the word, “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Now with a sizable distance between the two, Harry turns to leave, “See you.”

“Try not to fail,” Louis snorts quietly as Harry exits the shop and into the freezing air.

\--

Five minutes later, Louis jumps from the noise of the door being pushed open harshly, the honking of a nearby car polluting the previous silence. He drops his phone on the floor in his haste to hide it in his apron. It all happens in such a flurry that he doesn’t notice who has come in until the green eyed boy is slapping his palms onto the counter with such a force that it’s sure to sting and turn the delicate skin red. 

“H--” 

Harry is quick to cut him off, “What’s your Instagram.” He doesn’t even pose it as a question. His chest moves up and down with the quickness of his breathing, his nostrils flaring at the effort. 

“Uh --” Louis is speechless at his command. To that, Harry just holds his hand out and wiggles his fingers in a ‘gimme’ motion. Louis scrambles to retrieve his phone from where it lies on the rubber floor mat. He has it unlocked and open to Instagram in no time, setting it in the boys still outstretched hand. “Here,” he raises his eyebrows, silently imploring Harry to explain his haste. 

With no answer, he just remains frozen to his spot, watching the other boy bring up the search bar to type in his own name. It’s only when he clicks on it that Louis eyebrows shoot up and he rapidly reaches out to take his phone back, stammering unintelligibly with the effort. He doesn’t succeed. Harry backs up during his fruitless struggle, Louis not being able to reach any further over the counter. 

“Hmm,” his smile carves with his dimples, “What is this.” It’s a rhetorical question. He already knows what it is.

“I -- Uh -- Nothing?” Louis’ heart has left his chest. He might as well be laying where his phone had been, dead on the floor.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Harry quips. “To me,” he pauses and turns the phone for Louis to see, “It looks like you already know my Instagram.” 

There it is, plain for the both of them to see, Harry’s account showing as last viewed. “I -- No,” he says weakly, knowing he’s been caught red handed.

“It’s okay,” Harry’s face is glowing with thinly veiled glee from the discovery. He then turns the phone around, without another word on the matter, and clicks follow. His phone dings from inside his own pocket, sounding with the notification. He sets Louis' device back onto the counter and pulls out his phone, opening it with Face ID and hitting the ‘follow back’ button. 

Louis can feel how hot his cheeks have become. He’s too nervous and embarrassed to respond with any ounce of dignity, or even take his phone back. He croaks out a shaky, “Thanks,” as Harry keeps his gaze on him. 

With confidence bordering on cocky, Harry speaks up again, saying words that Louis never thought he would hear in a million years, “Would you maybe want to hang out sometime?” he quickly adds, “You can meet Liam for real, and I can meet your bodyguard?”

Louis barely lets him get the words out before he’s blurting a dumbfounded yes, following it with a soft, “Of course. But,” his forehead scrunches in confusion, “Bodyguard?” 

“The guy you were with last night. The one with the black hair?” Harry lowers his voice as his confidence dwindles, hoping that his joke hasn’t fallen completely flat. 

“Oh,” a lightbulb goes off in Louis’ head, “Zayn.” He laughs, “Yeah.”

At the same time that Harry’s face transforms to reveal his relief, Louis' eyes crinkle and his smile stretches his face. 

“Tonight?” Harry says with much more reserve.

Louis can’t contain his excitement any longer, having now recovered from his previous mortification, “Yes! Tonight.” He thinks that he could’ve faked nonchalance, but the other boy has seen his worst already, so it would do him no good. 

If Louis had any artistic skill, he would’ve pulled out an easel right then and painted Harry; his glittering green eyes, his flushed cheeks, his red-bitten lip. Maybe he can convince Zayn to paint a similar picture of the other boy for him, not that that would be creepy or anything. 

Harry cuts off his thoughts, clearing his throat weakly. “I’ll message you later? Make a plan?” he asks with a new shyness, as if he’s afraid that Louis will rescind his agreement.

Louis gains confidence from seeing the other boy’s uneasiness, “Sounds good Curly.” He picks his phone up and slides it into his apron while Harry backs away from him, eyes not once leaving his own as he makes his way back into the cold. 

\--

The DM comes as his opening shift ends.

_ H: Still on? _

_ L: Yeah, course. _

_ L: What time? _ __   
  


_ H: Six okay? _

_ L: Perfect. Where do you want to go? _

_ H: How about that bar that you like. The one that the Wall Streeters go to *smiley emoji* _

_ L: Sure thing Curly. _

_ L: Meet at Brooklyn Bridge station? In front of Pace? _

_ H: *confetti emoji* _

Louis laughs to himself at the younger boy's use of emojis.

_ L: That a yes? _

_ H: Yes! *ghost emoji* _

_ H: My number is 555-243-6702 btw _

Louis promptly saves him in his phone as “curly *frog emoji* and shoots him a text with the same emoji, to which he receives a sun emoji.

Louis reopens Instagram to finish their conversation through DM’s.

_ L: Just text me later! _

_ H: Will do, Blue *blue heart emoji* _

Louis double taps on his last message to like it, smiling privately as he closes the app out, thinking about how their relationship has finally progressed after countless months of his own idiocy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One or two more chapters left!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's longgg (4.6k+) but I couldn't bring myself to cut it into two chapters.. Last chapter before the epilogue though!

Seven and a half months. That’s how long Louis’ been waiting for this day. Harry’s been texting him silly little things nonstop since the second he left class. Things like “Eating toast in the shower is the ultimate multitask” and “You can shake an apple off an apple tree”. Things that from anyone else, Louis would give no response to. Coming from the silly boy he quite possibly could see himself falling for, he instead replied to the messages with “Can’t say I’ve ever tried” and “Whatever you say Curly”, entertaining the other boy’s antics. 

Louis had taken his Philosophy final only an hour ago, an in-class essay, which was absolutely horrible. Handwritten and based on a prompt that realistically only required a paragraph's worth of an answer, the professor had required the class to write at least five pages. Although Louis can admit that he didn’t read all of the required books, such as Aristotle's  _ Nicomachean Ethics _ , and Mill’s  _ Utilitarianism _ , he could also admit that he had gone into the final relatively prepared, with passages underlined to help him argue his point. It was only when the professor had given the class a bathroom break that he’d discovered that even the star students had thought the essay requirements were absurd. They had met in the bathroom and talked for ten minutes about how they had looked forward to the class (it had actually been Lous’ ‘fun’ class he was taking this semester) and conceded that it had ended up being a class they regretted not dropping while they still could. The course description promised that they would talk about the ethics behind homosexuality, abortion, and the death penalty, none of which the professor had covered. The man had instead only read the books aloud for the full three hours of each class, which on a friday afternoon after being at work for seven hours, Louis could barely stay awake for. 

He’d taken an hour long nap after his class had ended, allowing him a small amount of time to recharge. When he woke up, he splashed some cold water on his face and hauled himself to the nearby 7/11 to get a pack of ciders, knowing that without the help of a little alcohol he’d be likely to crawl into his shell as soon as he would see Harry. He’s not proud of his need for the drink, but it’s not like he’s getting wasted beforehand, only slightly tipsy - looser. 

So here he is, two drinks in to calm his ever present anxiety, getting ready to meet up with the boy of his dreams. He took a five minute shower, scrubbing himself of any coffee and milk that he’d spilled on himself early, and once clean with his hair blow-dried, he sprayed himself with just a touch of his favorite cologne. Now, dressed in only his underwear, he pulls nearly every pair of pants and shirt from his drawers, setting them on top of his twin bed. He rifles through them, trying on at least ten combinations before deciding on a pair of tight black jeans and a scoop neck red shirt. While the pants look painted on, hugging his hips and showing off his best asset, the shirt hangs low on his chest, revealing his “It Is What It Is” tattoo that’s etched into his skin. 

Checking his phone for the time, he sees that he’d missed a few texts from Harry and a call from Niall while he had been in the shower. Harry had let him know that he would be there in about a half an hour, while Niall had been asking him when they were meeting, despite the fact that Louis had told both of the boys many times throughout the afternoon. He responds to Harry with a thumbs up emoji, and to Niall with a message letting him know that he better be ready in five minutes. Unusually quick to respond, Niall sends an eye roll emoji, and tells him that they’ll meet him downstairs soon.

Black vans on, Louis leashes Leo after checking himself once more in the bathroom mirror, making sure that his hair swoops to the side just right. He then turns off the lights in his room and opens the door, letting Leo step in front of himself and lead the way to the elevator. After a short wait, they enter the elevator and make their way to meet his friends. Service dead in the metal box, when he reaches the ground floor he’s met with an alert - Harry telling him that Liam and him are walking out of Brooklyn Bridge station and that he’s excited to see Louis, adding a firework emoji for effect, as he loves to do. 

Louis sees Niall and Zayn leaning against the window when he turns the corner from the elevator. Leo spots them and drags him forward, Louis laughing as he hurries his movement to reach the other boys. Through the turnstiles, the two boys move forward to meet them, Zayn reaching down to pet Leo and Niall hip checking Louis teasingly with a bit more force than necessary. 

“Alright lads?” Louis asks them, rubbing his hip pointedly while shoving Niall away and walking to the large glass double doors. He leans his whole body against it and pushes, the cold air hits his face in a rush as he does so, a startling shock to his system, contrasting the heated warmth of the building. 

Zayn shrugs in response, keeping his cool and acting as if he hasn’t been laughing with Niall for the past hour about how funny it’ll be to see Harry and Louis together. Niall skips off, turning left at the sidewalk towards the station, leading the way for the others.

“I’m ready man. This is going to be great!” Niall cackles, the noise startling the stoners who are sitting on the benches outside the building smoking. 

The station is only a few minutes away but Louis has his phone in his hand, unlocked, the whole time just in case Harry texts him again. No matter how ridiculous, his anxiety tells him that Harry could bail any second, just turn back around and leave Louis, never to speak to him again. 

Of course, as the three turn the corner onto Nassau, it’s plain to see that Harry has not fled. He’s instead standing in front of the steps of Pace, illuminated by a nearby streetlight. From a short block away, Louis can already see how stunning he is. He’s got on a beautiful purple and white dotted button up, flowing around his body and half unbuttoned to reveal his toned chest and the swallows that adorn them. He has a long wool coat on which Louis would guess to be the same one he had worn to lunch with his sister weeks prior. Similar to Louis, he’s also got on a tight pair of black jeans but his have slits at the knees. Louis tries his best not to speed up noticeably to reach the other boy faster but doesn’t succeed. His short legs reach out and bring him to stand in front of Harry and Liam and his face stretches with the smile he can’t help from gracing his face.

“Hi Lou,” Harry lets out on a wondrous exhale. He reaches out with one arm to hug him but hesitates, thinking that the other boy may not be that comfortable in his presence yet. 

Louis doesn’t mind though, and enamored by the gorgeous creature who stands before him, he leans in. Reaching up on his tippy toes, he hooks his chin over the taller boy's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck much too familiarly. He breathes in the scent of the other boy, the sweet woodsy smell, before breathlessly replying, “Hey.” 

They cling to each other for a long moment before being interrupted by Liam, “Hey guys.” At his words they step back, Harry’s hand lingering on Louis' waist before dropping limply back to his side to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

“Hey,” Niall parrots back as Zayn remains silent and holds his hand up with minimal effort.

Louis looks behind himself at his friends and smirks, noticing that Zayn’s cool demeanor seems to have shifted. He’s looking to the ground timidly, scuffing his foot on the pavement. Louis lets him be, not knowing what to do since he’s never seen him this bashful before. It’s usual for him to be soft-spoken, but he’s often the one that can put strangers at ease, push for a slow conversation with the even lull of his voice. 

Louis looks back to Harry then, the boy who’s the reason they’re meeting now, “Shall we?” he tilts his head back in the direction they had just come from.

Harry nods slowly in response and steps beside Louis as he begins down the sidewalk, leaving the other three to walk together behind them.

\--

Indescribably, the walk to the bar felt like it took minutes, but at the same time like it took hours. Louis and Harry talked easily the whole way, and even in the quiet moments, it was never awkward. Louis doesn’t know if he has the alcohol to thank, or if they have just reached a new comfort around each other. They’re no longer confined by the walls of the coffee shop, or surprised by the presence of the other on a dark street. 

They enter through the door on Pearl Street that Louis leads the group to on autopilot. Greeted by Andy, Louis waves back distractedly as his focus is still on Harry’s dimples. The five decide to sit at a high table, enabling the group to face one another. Harry and Louis sit beside each other while Zayn and Liam sit across and Niall sits on the end. 

Comfortably seated on the spinny stools, Louis maneuvers himself to be facing Harry, knee bumping his thigh. It’s then that Harry begins animatedly speaking about a homeless man that had been blocking his apartment door earlier in the day, “Lou. This man was just standing there and I was trying not to bother him, you know?” Louis nods along, his eyes trained on the other boys slightly downturned lips. His eyes snap back up to the others shining green eyes as he continues. “Like he was just looking at the buzzer and talking into it like someone was listening on the other end. I was trying to ask him politely to move but he just wouldn’t pay attention. I even offered to buy him something to eat but he was acting like I wasn’t there!” Harry pouts even more while Louis matches his features, not able to fathom how someone wouldn’t be immediately drawn to the other boy. “It wasn’t until my neighbor pushed through the door that he stepped aside. I really wish he would’ve let me buy him some food though!” he ends with, clearly upset that he wasn’t able to help the man.

“It’s okay, Curly,” Louis sets his hand on his knee and runs his thumb back and forth in an attempt to sooth the other boy, “Maybe next time.” Just since this morning, Louis has begun to see a new side of Harry. He’s kind and he’s sweet and he’s caring and even more so, he’s not the same shy boy that he’s been nervously interacting with for months. He leaves Louis feeling at ease, like they’re childhood friends that have reconnected after years apart and have started right where they left off. 

Before Harry can continue with a new story, Marisa steps up to their table, standing beside Niall. She reaches down to pet Leo, who’s lying at her feet, before righting herself to take their orders, “The usual?” she asks Louis, Niall, and Zayn. They nod back, leading her to ask the other two, “And for you guys?” Her thick New York accent pushes through with her words. 

Harry looks to Louis as if he needs help ordering, to which Louis just raises one shoulder. “Uh.. I’ll have what he’s having,” he raises the end like a question.

Marisa nods at him and looks towards Liam, “For you?”

“Can I just get a Truly? Doesn’t matter what flavor,” he smiles in thanks.

Louis catches Zayn looking up in awe from where he was picking at the electronic candle that had previously sat in the center of the wooden table. He raises an eyebrow at him and Zayn splutters quietly before looking back down at his hands. 

“Sure thing. I’ll be back in a second with everything,” she pauses, “Want me to put in any food orders?” She looks at Louis as she says it, already knowing that he’ll want some mac and cheese.

“Mac and cheese please,” he sing-songs before turning to the others, “Anyone else want anything?”

“Do you just have like some nachos or something?” Liam turns to ask her.

“Yep.”

He shoots the other boys a questioning look and when he can see their agreement, he replies, “Let’s get some of those.”

“Got it.” She leaves them to go behind the bar.

Louis turns back to Harry and says softly, “You didn’t want anything?”

Harry scans his eyes over Louis' face, trying to read his features, “I mean.. I might just eat some of yours,” he cuts himself off abruptly. “If that’s okay with you,” he spits out quickly.

Louis smiles fondly back at him, “Of course,” he lifts his hand and pats him awkwardly on the arm. With a laugh he adds, “What’s mine is yours.”

\-- 

They’ve each downed one drink when Marisa stops by with their food orders. “Here you guys go. Enjoy,” she leaves just as fast as she had come. 

While the other three talk amongst themselves, Louis and Harry remain in their own bubble. As they only have one fork, they just talk quietly as they trade off on taking bites, not even bothered a little bit from sharing germs. 

“Wait,” Louis says with his mouth full. 

Harry up from the bowl, fork paused in front of his face. “Yes?”

“How --” Louis stops before asking what he’s been wondering for weeks, unsure if it’s a topic worth broaching.

“Yes?” Harry says once more, fork now lowered and gaze strong on Louis' face.

“Uhm,” he breaks eye contact, “How did you know my name?” He looks back up, “That one day,” he pauses, “You left in a hurry but you said my name,” he scrunches his eyebrows.

Harry looks like he’s been caught, eyes wide at the inquiry, “I -- Uh --” he takes a deep breath before pushing the next words out so fast that Louis can barely catch them, “I asked Ezra one day.” 

Louis bursts out laughing, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and giving him a shake, “Are you kidding me?!” 

Harry looks at Louis' hand, “No?”

“Harry!” Louis continues his laughter, “I’ve literally been talking to Ezra about you this entire time! That bastard!” He tries to compose himself, “He kept telling me to ask you  _ your _ name!”

Harry buries his face in his hands at that and groans, “I hate him.”

\--

Two shots, on Zayn's orders of course, and two ciders later, Louis has drunkenly text-screamed at Ezra about how he played both sides. Harry is also pleasantly drunk, and by being so, he’s scooted his stool impossibly closer to Louis and spun so that they’re facing each other fully. Louis has fitted one knee between Harry’s own outstretched legs. Every so often, when Louis says something that Harry deems hilarious, the younger boy will lean forward and rest his flushed cheek against Louis' shoulder to hide his giggles. Louis wont admit it, but at this point he’s purposely saying the dumbest things he can think of in an effort to get the other boy to leave his face in the crook of his neck permanently.

Unfortunately for him, Marisa comes by with refills and startles Harry from his place. He looks up with glassy eyes, watching her hand as it leaves another Angry Orchard in front of him, where the pasta had been earlier. “Thanks,” he dimples at her. Louis’ almost jealous of the look he gives the older lady, and if he wasn’t getting an even softer look sent his way directly after, his drunken self would maybe believe that the kind boy was flirting with her. Despite knowing he isn’t, he still latches his hand into Harry’s upper thigh, squeezing it to get his attention. When Harry looks back at him, Louis just smiles, unable to form words. Harry’s eyes don’t stray from his own for the rest of the night.

\--

“Hey guys?” Zayn asks, turning from where he had been talking privately to Liam for the past few minutes (Louis takes note of). 

“Yeah?” Harry asks while still leaning on Louis for support.

“Want to get Insomnia?”

Harry straightens himself at that. It’s like the last shot was erased from his system at the thought of getting cookies. “Yes please!” he lights up like a child. Louis just continues to watch the other boy's eyes, forgoing responding to his friend. As long as Harry’s happy he’s happy. He thinks, if given the chance, he’d follow the other boy to the end of the earth. 

“Yes!” Niall responds with almost as much excitement as Harry had shown. Louis figures that Liam hasn’t spoken up because it was something that Zayn had already discussed with them.

Niall taps Marisa on the arm the next time she walks by their table. “Could we get the check?” he asks sweetly when she’s stopped by his side. 

“Sure thing. Be right back.”

\--

Their bill is well over two-hundred dollars, despite the fact that they were charged for barely any of the drinks that they had ordered. Harry surprises Louis once more, even though he figures that he shouldn’t be surprised by a single thing the boy does anymore. He kindly slapped Louis arm from where he had been reaching for his wallet, and pulled his own out to set his card on the receipt. “You sure Haz?” Louis lets a new nickname slip.

“Yeah. Least I can do,” his eyes crinkle and his dimples make a soft appearance.

“Thanks,” Louis sets his hand on top of Harry’s with a new drunken confidence. The other boy amazes him when he turns his hand over and laces their fingers. Louis looks down at their hands and then back at Harry’s glowing face. With reserve, he leans his body forward, hands still clasped with the younger boys’, and leans his head on his shoulder, much like Harry had been doing throughout the night. 

They stay like that, intertwined and breathing each other in for what felt like an eternity, but what was more like only a few minutes. Marisa comes back and breaks them from the moment with a knowing smile and a slap of Harry’s card onto the counter, “Thanks boys. See you later,” she darts her eyes from Harry to Niall, “Nice to meet you two.” With a muttered thanks from each of them, she steps away and onto another table. 

“Cookies?” Niall jumps from his stool, seeming to suddenly remember their previous conversation. 

Harry hops from his own seat, hand still latched with Louis, and pulls the older boy with him, “Yeah.” The angel that he is, Harry takes the loop of the leash from Louis, tugging Leo up from where he had fallen asleep, “Come on little guy.”

Suddenly being hit by sleepiness, Louis leans against Harry’s solid side as they step from the building, but not without a shouted “Bye, Andy!” 

Harry honks a laugh at Louis' unexpected outburst. “So nice of you,” he looks down at where Louis’ tucked into him. 

\--

After having walked down Stone Street and under the ‘pretty twinkly lights’ (Harry’s words), the group reaches Insomnia. Niall, Liam, and Zayn order and pay for their cookies one by one, but when it’s Louis' turn, he tugs Harry with him and insists that he pay for Harry’s dessert. Hesitantly, despite having just paid for every one of their drinks and food items, Harry orders a single deluxe peanut butter cup cookie. Louis smiles as he does so, knowing that that’s the best cookie they have. He orders the same for himself and grabs a bottle of milk from the fridge, since for some reason whenever he’s drunk he loves to drink milk. He pays with his card and the worker hands the two their cookies. His hand never leaves Harry’s grip. 

They cuddle up on a nearby bench and eat their cookies in silence while the other three drunkenly swing from a nearby piece of scaffolding. Any other time Louis would warn them and insist that it could break and they could get hurt, but right now he’s much too interested in watching Harry sinfully lick chocolate from his fingers to even glance in the direction of the others. 

When Zayn jumps from the metal bar he was previously hanging from, and goes to tug on Liam's arm, the three move on from their shenanigans to rejoin the other two. “Let’s go,” Zayn whines, crashing from the long night. 

“Fine,” Louis whines back at his friend, shoving the rest of his cookie into his mouth and pulling Harry up with him. 

“Lou --” Harry complains, having wanted to sit on that cold bench, entwined with Louis, for the rest of the night. 

“I’ve got work in the morning anyways,” Louis pouts back, wanting so badly to kiss the frown off of Harry’s plump lips. Instead he just moves to reach his arm around the other boy’s waist. He latches his hand onto his silky shirt, not wanting to let go just as much as Harry doesn’t want him to either. 

\--

That’s how they walk back to the dorm building, waddling together, movement restricted by the way that their bodies have become one. Louis murmurs into Harry’s ear every couple of steps. He lets compliments fall from his lips. He tells the other boy about how much he likes his shirt, how soft his hair looks, how green his eyes are, how cute his dimples are, how he could have written his own philosophy based on how amazing and kind Harry is (to which Harry just pulls him closer to himself). Louis may not be making a lot of sense with how much alcohol is flowing through his veins, but he doesn’t care, he’s been holding in similar thoughts since he saw the boy on Bumble.

“Wait --” Louis halts his steps with such force that Harry can’t help but do the same.

Harry responds with a childlike airy giggle, “Yes?”

“Did you know that I saw you on Bumble?” Louis scrunches his face in an uncalled for show of concern.

“I -- What?” the words go over Harry’s head.

Louis lets go of his shirt and steps around to face him, “I saw you on Bumble!” He throws his hands up.

Face glazed in awe, Harry slurs out, “Really?!” 

“Yes!” Louis waves his hands around before setting them on the other boy’s tall shoulders, “And we didn’t match!”

Harry fishmouthes at that, “Lou!” He closes it and purses his lips, “I didn’t see you! I swear if I had I would’ve swiped right!” His eyes glimmer with unshed tears at the thought of Louis possibly thinking that he hadn’t liked him. 

“Oh..” Louis releases his grip and looks to his feet, toes pointed inward self-consciously. “I thought --”

Harry stops him, “If I had seen you we would’ve matched. But,” he reaches out and curls his arm around Louis’ shoulders, pulling him into his chest and nuzzling into his soft hair, “It doesn’t matter now.”

Louis lifts his arm up to reach around Harry, completing their embrace, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It would’ve been easier if we had,” he laughs into Louis hair and then moves to kiss his temple, “But we made it here.” 

“But Harry,” Louis squeezes the taller boy’s love handle, “It’s been months!”

“Well..” Harry pulls back to look into his blue eyes, “Let’s pretend that it’s Ezra’s fault that it took this long,” he smirks.

Puffing out a short laugh, Louis nods his head at the idea, “Okay. If anyone asks,” his eyes shine with mirth, “Ezra sucks.” 

Harry honks out a laugh at this and maneuvers Louis so that he’s back at his side, pulled in close. He leans down and chances another kiss to his cheek, “Works for me.”

At this point, the other three of their friends have left them alone, having already reached the dorm without them. Harry and Louis disconnect slightly in order to link arms, and led by Harry and his giddiness, they skip the rest of the way back, Leo running beside them with his leash caught between his teeth. 

\--

After about five minutes, they make it back breathlessly. Louis would say that he’s surprised by the sight they’re met with, but having paid slight attention to the two throughout the night, he really isn’t. Niall has disappeared to, Louis has assumed, back to his room. Meanwhile, Zayn and Liam are sitting next to eachother on one of the wooden benches, not a millimeter between their bodies. Liam’s whispering into Zayn’s ear, and when Louis stomps to stop in front of them, purposeful in his movement, they startle apart as if they’ve been caught red-handed. 

“I --” Zayn begins but Liam just grabs his hand and pulls him up to stand.

“Well boys,” Louis smiles at them calculatingly, “I’ve got to be up soon so I’m going to go off to bed.” He then turns to smile, with much more admiration, at Harry. 

The poor boy is so whipped, just nodding along with his words before he registers them and pulls him back into a tight hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he whispers nervously into his ear. 

Louis nods his head while he’s still got it rested on Harry’s shoulder. “Yeah, tomorrow,” he parrots the words that they’ve toyed with back and forth for weeks. Louis backs from the embrace to follow after Zayn who’s now walking back to the glass doors, curiously with Liam in tow, when Harry clutches at his hand and pulls him flush to his chest. 

Harry looks down into Louis’ blue eyes apprehensively, “This okay?” He tilts his head down even more, bringing their foreheads together. His breath fans over Louis lips and that’s all it takes for him to push forward and meet his lips. He doesn’t even afford him a simple affirmation, he just takes what he’s been wanting the entire night, the entire time he’s known the boy, if he’s being honest with himself. 

It’s just a quick peck, nothing more, the both of them knowing that it’s not the time or place to make it anything else. People talk about feeling fireworks while kissing, and Louis never believed it possible until this moment. They’re lips are slotted together for only a second and his entire body feels like it’s on fire, from his toes all the way to the last strand of hair sitting on top of his head. He doesn’t even mind that Harry tastes like alcohol and peanut butter, he might actually kind of like it.

It’s evident that Harry feels the same when he steps away, eyes still closed and a smile beginning to form on his lips. “Lou,” he breathes out, “Thank you.” 

Louis beams back at him as he drops his hand and turns to leave. He’s facing the other direction when he can feel the woosh of Harry stepping back into his space.

“Wait,” he holds his hand out, Leo’s leash still attached to it, “Don’t forget your dog,” his shoulders shake from the force of his silent chuckle. 

“Oh God,” Louis takes it from his hand, appalled with himself for almost forgetting his own son, “Thanks, love.”

Harry brightens at the term of endearment. “See you tomorrow,” he looks down and then back up with a private smile. Knowing that it’s time for him to go, he then turns away to leave, this time for good - or at least until the morning, until they inevitably meet again in the little coffee shop where it all started. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the short epilogue. Should be up within the next couple of days!
> 
> Also, I would like to thank every single person that has read this fic. It's the first one I've ever finished. I never thought that I would be able to do so, and I'm just so so grateful that you all have taken your time to read it and comment and leave kudos. It amazes me that someone would want to sit down and read something that little old me would write so yeah.. Thank you so much. 
> 
> There is a possibility that I'll go through at some point and edit it so stay tuned for that also!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the epilogue!!!

They may not have an apartment in the Upper East Side, but they do have a gorgeous brownstone in Carroll Gardens. After much consideration, the two decided that they’d rather start a family in a slower paced environment. It’s a perfect distance from both of their workplaces - Harry’s job at an investment firm in the Financial District and Louis’ job at a PR agency in SoHo. 

A year after they started dating, Louis moved into Harry’s apartment above the shop, which made his morning commute exponentially easier, just a step out the door and he was there. Harry made the decision to get his Master’s in Quantitative Finance, a grueling degree that kept him up studying many nights, much to Louis’ displeasure (“Harry! I have to be up for work in two hours. Can you  _ please _ just come to bed!”). His choice to continue his education allowed the couple to finish their higher education at the same time though, with Louis’ earning his Entertainment Management degree only days after Harry’s own graduation. 

Like that sap he is, Harry proposed to Louis at their joint graduation party. They crammed all of their closest friends and both of their families, Louis’ who had flown in from England and Harry’s who had driven up from South Jersey, into their tiny flat. Seeing as Louis had been promoted to manager a few months prior, Harry had secretly pulled the coffee shop key from his apron on the counter, and led the group down into the shop just as the sun had begun to set. Louis’ didn’t see it coming when Harry pushed him through the door and immediately got down on one knee. It was there, on the coffee stained tile floor, that he revealed the little black velvet box that had been hiding in his pocket all evening, that had been under his side of the mattress for four months already.

They had only recently started talking about their lives after school, both of them already having jobs lined up from their internships. Although some people could say that they were moving fast, that they should experience their relationship outside of the stress of their final years of school before committing fully to each other, they knew that they were meant to be. It was fate that they met three years ago in the same shitty coffee shop as they stood across from each other then, when Louis’ had said yes with watery blue eyes. 

From that day on, their relationship was stronger than ever. Louis flung himself into the search for the perfect venue (eventually deciding on having it in Prospect Park), and Harry spent his time looking for flowers that would complement his fiance's beauty (he settled on bouquets of blue hydrangeas, white roses, and eucalyptus leaves). They came together ten months later on a gorgeous spring day to finally tie the knot. Louis’ wore a black bespoke suit with a cream shirt, while Harry, ever the fashion icon, wore an elegant black and cream floral suit with a black shirt. Standing on the grass with Niall in the center of the two, officiating their wedding, they looked like they had stepped from a spread in Vogue. Liam and Zayn, who had been dating almost exactly as long as them and had announced their own engagement only a few weeks prior, stood at their sides as their best men. 

Even now, seven years later and with two gorgeous curly haired children, Jackson (aged 2) and Harper (aged 4), they’re just as happy as they were the day they vowed to love each other ‘in sickness and in health’. Ivy had gotten a job at Louis’ coffee shop eight years ago, and since then, she’s been one of the pair's closest friends. They had been out eating dinner in Little Italy when she had offered to be their surrogate, knowing that both of them wanted children but didn’t have the money at the time to adopt or hire someone. Tears streaming down their faces and hands intertwined under the white table cloth, they accepted her offer and only a few years later she gave birth to Harper, and then a couple years after that she had Jackson. It was quite the struggle for Louis to convince Harry that he would rather he be their biological father, but he won in the end. He had told Harry that he wanted them to be as smart as he was, but in reality, he just wanted them to have his soft curly hair and his gorgeous dimples. The first time Harper had dimpled up at Louis, he knew that he would never be the same again.

Their jobs had been incredibly understanding when their children were born, letting both of them take paternity leave. After a few months, they went back to work and hired Ivy on as their nanny. She had said that she would take care of the kids for free, seeing as she’s their biological mother, but the two insisted that they pay her. After all, she had carried two children for them for no charge. 

So here they are, Harry lifting the stroller that holds Jackson down the steps of their house, and Louis holding Harper's hand as they patiently wait to walk down after him. Although old, Leo’s still a huge part of their family. Harper took a special liking to him after he had decided she was his to protect when she was a newborn, so she has his leash in her little hand. Her grip is strong, but Louis still keeps a close eye on it to make sure that she doesn’t let the little guy loose. 

It’s early Sunday morning, and the only people up are either getting ready for church, or are morning people, like Louis’ crazy husband is. He makes the pair of them coffee on weekends and insists that their family go on a walk around the neighborhood together. Louis rolls his eyes every time Harry pulls the covers from his body at six am, but despite his grumbles, he wouldn’t give up his life for anything. He’s got beautiful children, and a stunning husband that shows him each and every day that he’s the kindest and most loving person Louis’ ever met. If it weren’t for Ezra convincing them both to get their heads out of their asses, they may have never made it here. Louis’ may have never married his soulmate and had children that twenty-three year old him had only dreamt about. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! My tumblr is sunflower-live


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